The Prosecutor in the Woods
by hellogoodbye57
Summary: Another case-fic but still with plenty of fluff. Fifth in my series; follows The Girl on the Pier. A body is found in the forest. Meanwhile, a surprise visitor threatens the happiness Booth and Brennan have found with their unusual family.
1. Chapter 1

Prologue

Seeley Booth used his hand to cover a yawn as he stepped onto the elevator in the Hoover Building. He did not recall the last time he had received a decent night's sleep. With a three-month-old who slept in four hour stretches, an eight-year-old, a seven-year-old who still missed his mother, a puppy, and a slightly crazy pregnant girlfriend, he was lucky if he managed to sleep for six hours during the night. Currently, he was averaging around four to five hours of sleep a night. It did not help that he had not yet managed to finish work on the house, so he, Brennan, Parker, Kristen, Noah, and the puppy were living in a two-bedroom apartment. They were constantly tripping over one another, and tempers were running a bit high.

Still, he would not change his life for anything. He was in a committed relationship with a beautiful woman who he loved more than life itself. He had three wonderful kids and another one on the way. He had a great job with the FBI that may not have paid as well as he would have liked but still gave him a sense of satisfaction that he knew he would not receive from any other career. Yes, he truly was living the American Dream. Though admittedly his family was far from typical, they loved each other and looked out for one another, and that was all that mattered.

The elevator stopped on his floor, and he stepped off, making his way quickly to his office, humming tunelessly under his breath. He took a sip from his coffee as he reached the office, pushing the door open. When he saw who was standing on the other side, however, he nearly spit the coffee all over the floor. The man turned around when he heard the door open. His brown floppy hair was slightly longer, hanging low over his face, and his skin was a shade darker from the sun. He still seemed to be in decent shape though Booth noted with some satisfaction that he could probably out-compete the other man athletically. The wrinkles at the corners of the man's eyes crinkled as he smiled at Booth.

"Booth, it's good to see you again. I must say, I figured you'd be out of this office and somewhere more fitting for a man of your talents and ambition. Or at the very least I thought there would be an ADD in front of your name."

Booth knew his mouth was still hanging open, but he did not bother to close it as he spoke a single word. "Sully?"


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 1

"In the flesh," Sully responded, a grin spreading across his face, showing off the teeth that Booth had always thought were just a tad too white.

"What are you doing here?" Booth questioned.

"I'm back," he replied needlessly.

"You're coming back to the Bureau?"

"No. I'm finished with that life. Actually, I recently acquired a piece of property not too far from here. I was thinking of opening a sandwich shop."

"So what are you doing here, in the Hoover?" Booth asked, trying to sound happy when in truth his brain was screaming for him to get rid of the other man as quickly as possible before Sully ruined the wonderful life he had built for himself.

"I'm just here to see some old friends, catch up with some of my buddies at the Bureau," he said, his eyes roving around the room.

"And you were hoping to run into Bones," Booth guessed.

"You two still work together?"

"We do."

"She still doing all right?"

"She's great. Look, Sully-" Before he could say anything, however, his phone rang. Holding up a finger, he answered it. "Booth. . . Yeah. . . Okay, we'll be there in about thirty minutes." As he hung up, he turned back to Sully. "Look, it's great seeing you again, but I've got to go. I've got a case. We'll catch up some other time."

"Okay. Some other time."

Thirty minutes later, Booth and Brennan were following a police officer through the forest, pushing branches of trees out of their way as they walked along. Booth had tried to keep Brennan out of the field since learning of her pregnancy, but she, of course, refused to remain behind, claiming that the pregnancy in no way affected her ability to process a crime scene and that Booth was being overprotective. Booth knew she was right, but he could not stop himself from worrying.

"A couple adventurous hikers got pretty far off the beaten path and ended up tripping over what they thought was a log in the woods," the cop explained. "They took a closer look and realized that it was actually a human hand. They got out of there pretty quickly and called us. We took one look at the hand and called you two in. I'm told you're the best at. . . these cases."

"If by these cases, you mean decomposed remains, then yes, the Jeffersonian is one of the top institutions for that field. We have a success rate of nearly 90% which is-"

"I think he gets it, Bones," Booth remarked irritably. He was still thinking of Sully's return, wondering how they were going to handle it. He supposed that he should have told Sully about his and Brennan's relationship that morning, but he could not help but have an irrational fear that mentioning the relationship would somehow jinx it and could cause him to lose the best thing he had had in years. He knew Sully and Brennan had been fairly hot and heavy for the short period they were together, and he could not help but wonder how he could measure up. Sully was accomplished, intelligent, and he could pick up any skill in a matter of days it seemed. Of course Brennan would jump at the chance to be with a man like him. He certainly was more her match intellectually.

"Booth, are you even paying attention?" Brennan questioned.

"What? Uh. . .yeah, I'm listening."

"I was just saying that this fall was unusually hot and rainy, so it could have significantly sped up the rate of decomposition."

"But won't Hodgins still be able to get time of death with his bugs?"

"He should be able to narrow it down, yes." They ducked under a final branch, and the cop leading them stopped, pointing to the ground in front of him. It did not take long for Brennan to notice the skeletal hand poking up from beneath the leaves, closed tightly as if making a final, desperate attempt to hold onto its life. Kneeling beside the body, Brennan carefully removed the top layer of leaves, exposing a skull with only a few remaining shreds of flesh still clinging to it. She swallowed the wave of nausea which rose in her throat; though the smell of corpses still bothered her sometimes due to the pregnancy, the corpse was fairly decomposed, and the stench had lessened somewhat. On top of that, she had taken the anti-nausea pills that morning.

Booth obviously noticed her green tinge, for he became instantly concerned. "Hey, Bones, are you okay? Do you need me to get your medicine?"

"I'm fine, Booth," she said quickly as her nausea dissipated. "The skeleton is female. African American." Carefully, she removed the remaining leaves, exposing the entire skeleton. "She was in her late thirties. Likely dead two to three months."

"Cause of death?"

Brennan let her eyes travel over the remains in front of her. "Hyoid's broken."

"Strangulation. Okay."

"Booth?"

"Yeah?"

"The tissue is fairly decomposed, but you can still see evidence of deep lacerations to the face, so deep that they cut the bone."

"So she was beat up before she was killed?"

"From the size and number of the lacerations, I believe she was beaten fairly extensively. And though I can't say anything for sure until we remove the tissue completely, I also see evidence of other injuries on other parts of her body."

Booth nodded shortly, taking a deep breath. As much as he loved his job, there were some days when he absolutely hated it.

Two hours later, the body was lying on the central examination table at the Jeffersonian. Cam, Brennan, and Mr. Nigel-Murray were standing over it, finishing up the preliminary examination before they removed the flesh. Booth stood to one side, watching with his hand pressed to his lips. "Uh-oh," Cam remarked.

"What? What uh-oh?" Booth questioned, his hand dropping to his side as he straightened to see what Cam was looking at. Unfortunately, all he could see was a picture with a rainbow of colors in no discernable pattern.

"Photometric evaluation indicates that there is a hematoma in the decomp tissue," Cam explained. "It shows there's bruising to the vaginal wall."

Booth sucked in a breath. Great, this case kept getting better and better. "So she was raped," he concluded. All three scientists nodded.

"I'm afraid so, Seeley," Cam told him.

"After you finish the initial examination, I want you to clean the bones," Brennan instructed. "I'll be back shortly." Stripping off her gloves, she started for her office, Booth trailing after her. Once inside, she headed directly for the computer.

"Sully's back," Booth said without preamble, shutting the door behind him. He had been debating how to tell her since they had returned from the crime scene, and he had eventually settled on the most direct method, knowing it was the method which Brennan would prefer. She turned to him quickly, her blue eyes searching his.

"Why?"

"He said something about opening a sandwich shop."

"Sausage and onions," she remembered, an involuntary smile crossing her lips.

"What?"

"Sausage and onion sandwiches. One of his dreams was to open a place where he could sell them," Brennan explained.

"Oh, of course." How did she know that? And why was she smiling? Shouldn't she be angry that Sully was back? Hadn't he left her? "So, how do you feel about this whole thing?" Booth questioned after a few seconds of silence.

"I really have no strong feelings about it. I mean, I might run into him from time to time, but I doubt I'll have any interaction with him beyond that."

"So you don't plan on getting back together with him then?"

Brennan looked at him, genuinely confused. "No, of course I don't plan on getting back together with him. Why would I? I told you that I wanted to be in a monogamous relationship with you, and I still do."

Booth let out a breath that he didn't realize he was holding. "Good."

"Wait, were you jealous of him or something?"

Dammit. Of all times for her to be perceptive, why did it have to be now? "No, of course I wasn't jealous," Booth said quickly. Unfortunately, she picked up on his falsehood immediately.

"You were jealous. Why would you ever be jealous?"

"I wasn't jealous. It's just. . . Look, Bones, the guy does like fifty different things, and he does them all well. He's smarter than me, he knows the bone stuff. It's just, well, it seems like you have more in common with him."

"Angela told me a phrase once. I believe it was 'jack of all trades but a master of none.' I think that kind of applies to Sully. I mean, sure, he does a lot of stuff, and he does it well, but there's not that one thing that he's really good at, the one talent he has that nobody else can match. But you have that. Your ability to read people is incredible, and you are a highly-skilled investigator, better than Sully can ever hope to be. If you ask me, I think he was jealous of you for that." Booth smiled slightly at this, and she took his cheeks in her hands to force him to look at her as she continued. "Look, Booth, I've told you before that there is more than one kind of intelligence. Sure, Sully might have a higher IQ than you. But when it comes to interacting with people, when it comes to investigating, your intelligence is far greater than his." She dropped her hands to her sides, but Booth reached out and took them in his own, entwining his fingers with hers.

"Thanks, Bones, that's exactly what I needed to hear," he told her, squeezing her hands gently. He was tempted to kiss her, but he kept his distance, knowing they were at work. His thumb brushed lightly over the back of her hand.

"Besides, Booth, he left. Just like everyone else. You stayed."

Booth grinned widely now. "You're damned right I did. And I'm going to continue to stay, too, for the rest of my life." They remained standing there for a few more seconds, their hands still locked together. Eventually, Booth dropped her hands with a sigh. "I'm going to go look through Missing Persons for anyone fitting our victim's general description," he told her.

"Okay. I have a couple things to finish up here, and then I'm going to help Mr. Nigel-Murray clean off the bones. We should have a face for you by this afternoon."

"Sounds good. I'll see you in about an hour for lunch?"

"Take-out. I don't really have time to leave the lab."

"Take-out it is." And with a grin and a wink, he was gone.

Brennan swiped onto the platform thirty minutes later, snapping on a fresh pair of latex gloves. "What else have we learned?" she asked.

"Evidence of numerous other subdural hematomas all over the body," Cam announced. "She was basically one big bruise."

"Torn ligaments in the ankle and shoulder," Mr. Nigel-Murray added. "There also seems to be evidence of multiple bone fractures though it's hard to tell before we remove the flesh."

"All the injuries are consistent with torture," Cam said, her voice wavering slightly.

"Okay. Let's clean the bones and see what else we can discover. We need to get Booth a face as soon as possible."

Twenty minutes later, Brennan heard a familiar voice behind her. "It's nice to see you again, Tempe," Sully called from the main lab floor.

"I don't really have time to catch up right now, Sully," Brennan told him without turning around. He chuckled slightly.

"Booth told you I was back, didn't he?"

"How did you know?" This time, she did turn so that she could face him fully.

"Because you don't seem at all surprised to see me," he answered. "So, why don't you take a short break and we can go grab some lunch somewhere?"

"I don't have time to take a break," Brennan informed him, turning back to her bones. "Besides, Booth is bringing me take-out soon."

"Come on, Tempe, you're going to work yourself to death."

"I'll be fine. You're beginning to sound like Booth."

"Who's beginning to sound like Booth?" Booth asked as he joined the group, carrying two large white bags. When he saw Sully, he cocked his head to the side. It seemed the man did not waste much time. "Sully, I didn't expect to see you here," he remarked.

"I was just trying to see if Tempe wanted to have lunch."

"She has it." Booth held up the take-out bags. "Come on, Bones, food's here. Eat up, and then you can get back to your bones."

"I don't appreciate being ordered around like a small child," Brennan complained though she did join him on the main floor of the lab. When the scent of food reached her nostrils, however, her stomach rumbled, and Booth smiled.

"See, Bones, I knew you were hungry. Now, eat up, I brought Thai, pie, peanut butter crackers, and two cucumbers." Booth had decided to cover her four main cravings, figuring that he would at least have one right then. Brennan reached for the bags which he happily passed to her, and she disappeared into her office with them.

"I hope those aren't all going to be eaten together," Sully remarked.

Booth shook his head. "Nope. But you know Bones; she has strange tastes." He decided to hold off on explaining exactly why her tastes were strange until he discussed the matter with Brennan. They needed to decide between the two of them exactly how much they wanted to tell Sully. Besides, the only person besides the two of them who knew about the pregnancy was Angela (and probably Hodgins as a result), so he did not know if they should ever tell Sully.

Booth made his way to Brennan's office, noting with some irritation that Sully followed behind him. "I also brought over some Missing Person's files that fit the general description of the woman you found," Booth told her, holding up the files as he walked into her office. "I need to finish searching, but this should give you a place to start. I'm working on having the dental records sent over."

Brennan swallowed quickly and reached for the files. Booth passed them to her, taking a seat beside her on the couch. Sully perched on the arm on her other side. As she continued to eat, Brennan flipped quickly through the files, setting two of them aside when she finished. "These aren't her," she informed Booth, indicating the two files. "One of these women had disk replacement surgery on her back, and the other one had a knee replacement. I see no evidence of either surgery on our victim."

Booth nodded. "Okay. Well, I'll keep checking Missing Persons. It would be nice to have a face though."

"We're working as fast as we can, Booth. These things take time."

"I know, I know." He grabbed a pair of chopsticks and leaned over to steal a bite of her Pad Thai. She slapped his hand away, but he still managed to close the chopsticks over some of the noodles, and he brought them quickly to his mouth.

"Didn't you get your own food?"

"You're eating it," he told her, taking another bite.

"There are two more boxes in there. Take one of them."

"I don't want one of them." A third bite found its way to his mouth.

"You're just doing this to annoy me."

"So what if I am?" He smirked at her, reaching for her food again. She smacked his hand harder this time, but he was relentless. Sully was watching the entire exchange with interest, somewhat surprised at how playful Brennan seemed.

"Fine. I'll get more on my way back to the Hoover. You sure you're fine?"

"Yeah, I'm good. Go." Brennan waved him away with her chopsticks.

He watched her for a minute, unsure. Finally, he said, "If you find anything, call me. And make sure you take care of yourself." Resisting the urge to kiss her (for Sully was still watching them intently), he left the office.

"You sure you're going to be able to eat all this?" Sully inquired once Booth had left, peering at the large amount of food in the bags.

Brennan shrugged. "Probably. And if I can't, I'll just throw it in the fridge and warm it up later. I tend to get hungry about mid-afternoon. Why? Did you want some?"

"No, no. I've never been a big fan of Thai."

She shrugged. "Your loss."

He was silent for a few seconds before taking a deep breath. "Listen, Tempe, I was wondering if you wanted to have dinner with me tonight. You know, for old times sake. We could catch up. I'm curious what's been happening here."

"I'll have to see how the case goes," Brennan told him noncommittally.

Sully smiled. "Same old Tempe."

"Not as much as you'd think, Sully," she countered enigmatically. He opened his mouth to respond but could think of nothing to say. Instead, he said goodbye and left her to eat in peace.

When Booth returned two hours later with the remaining Missing Persons files, Brennan and Mr. Nigel-Murray had finished cleaning the bones. "Angela has the skull," Brennan told Booth, her eyes focused on the screen in front of her as she moved the camera over the body. "She should have a face for you soon."

"Great. Then I can try to match it." Booth swiped onto the platform and walked up behind Brennan, watching as she carefully maneuvered the camera. "Whatcha got for me, Bones?"

"Multiple fractures of the metatarsals, tarsals, ribs, metacarpals, and phalanges. Shallow grooves on the bones of the arm and leg seem to be knife wounds. These injuries are consistent with the previous conjecture of torture."

"So whoever did this tortured and raped her before strangling her?"

"That is what the evidence points to, yes."

"Bastard," Booth breathed vehemently.

"I agree," Hodgins added, joining them on the platform. "Insect activity places your victim's death between nine and eleven weeks ago. I'm still working on analyzing the clothing. Or what's left of it anyway."

"I've got a face," Angela announced, emerging from her office. "And you're not going to like this one, Booth."

"Why?"

"Recognize her?" Angela passed him a picture which showed a woman in her late thirties with dark skin, rounded cheeks, and a fairly prominent nose.

"It's Emma Kelly," Booth muttered, staring at the picture.

"Wait, Emma Kelly? You mean the federal prosecutor who went missing about three months ago?" Hodgins questioned.

"That's the one," Booth answered. "But she's not missing any longer."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 2

"Emma Kelly went missing August 15, 2008," Booth read from the file. "Hodgins told us that time of death was nine to eleven weeks ago. That means the bastard likely kept her alive for more than a month after taking her." He closed his eyes, and Brennan saw him trying to bring his emotions under control. "I'm going to call the district attorney's office, see if I can get all the files from all the cases that Emma worked on just before her disappearance. Maybe we'll get lucky."

"I'll go test the clothing for particulates. I might be able to figure out where she was shortly before she died," Hodgins said.

"Good. We'll need to notify her husband. Bones?"

"I'm coming." Brennan shed her lab coat and followed Booth out the door.

Emma's husband, Pete, was a slim man in his early forties with no hair and watery eyes. His face was fairly long and thin with large, slightly pointed ears that stuck out from his head. He sat across from the two partners, his long, spider-like fingers clasped tightly together in front of him. Brennan sat in a chair beside him, and Booth perched on the desk. "I take it you found Emma," Pete deduced.

"I'm afraid we did, Mr. Kelly," Booth said softly.

He sighed and closed his eyes for a moment to compose himself. "I always figured it would end this way. Still, it doesn't make it hurt any less."

"Mr. Kelly, we just have a few questions," Brennan told him.

"I figured you would."

"Sir, did your wife have any enemies?" Booth questioned.

"None that I know of," he answered.

"What about work? I'm sure there was someone she put away who wasn't happy to be going to jail."

"She never talked about work after she came home. It was kind of an unspoken rule. So she might have had enemies there, but I never knew about them."

"Can you think of anybody, anybody at all who might have done this?"

"No. It's still so inconceivable."

"Mr. Kelly, I know it's difficult, but do you think you can walk us through exactly what happened that night?"

"It started out just like any other night. After dinner, she worked on some cases which wasn't all that unusual. She brought work home with her sometimes, especially when she had a heavy caseload. Well, she worked on those cases until about ten o'clock and then told me she was going for a run. Again, it wasn't all that unusual; a lot of times, she would go running at night to relieve the stress of the day. She kissed me goodbye, told me she would be back in about half an hour, that she was just going to go around the neighborhood. When she still wasn't back an hour later, I called the cops."

"So nothing was unusual about that night?"

"No, nothing at all."

"Mr. Kelly, I really hate to ask this, but were you and your wife having any sort of marital trouble?"

"No. I loved my wife, Agent Booth, and she loved me."

Booth asked a few more questions before telling Mr. Kelly he was free to go. When he had left the room, Booth handed Brennan the Missing Person's file. "Agents questioned everybody in her neighborhood when they first investigated the case. One person reported seeing a dark-colored SUV that looked suspicious. Unfortunately, she didn't get a make, model, or license plate number, so it didn't really lead anywhere. She said she didn't see anyone inside, but that it was dark and she couldn't really tell. No one saw what happened to Emma."

"How did he know that Emma was going to be there?"

"My guess is that he stalked her for some period of time beforehand and knew her routine. Her husband said it wasn't unusual for her to go on these nighttime runs; it was probably a simple matter to just sit and wait for her to go by before running up behind her and drugging her."

"She had a few defensive wounds," Brennan remarked. "Also, there were injuries on her wrists and ankles consistent with binding."

"How did this world become so twisted?" Booth wondered aloud. Brennan simply shook her head, unsure of how to respond.

While Booth went to pick up the kids from school, Brennan returned to the lab, meeting Hodgins as he emerged from his office. "Particulates on her clothing weren't very telling," he announced. "There were some chips of some lead-based paint, but that just tells us she was held in a building built before 1992."

"Nothing else?"

"Sorry, Dr. B., but the composition of the paint was a fairly common one for that time, and there was nothing else on the clothing." Brennan nodded before joining Mr. Nigel-Murray on the platform.

She heard the telltale chatter of the kids as Booth brought them in, and she finished up her examination before joining them in her office. Immediately, she was besieged by both Parker and Kristen who were each eager to tell her about their days. She listened as well as she could to both of them as she gathered things so they could leave. Kristen and Parker led the way out the door, both still babbling excitedly about school, and Brennan and Booth followed behind, one of Booth's hands at the small of her back and the other holding Noah's carrier.

Later that night, Brennan, Booth, Kristen, and Parker all crowded into the kitchen as Booth attempted to show them all how to make his famous spaghetti sauce. Parker and Kristen hung onto every word he spoke, but Brennan was watching his interaction with the kids more than she was listening to his instructions, finding his natural parenting abilities fascinating. It was easy for him to explain how to make the sauce in a way that the kids understood and to make them laugh with silly comments during his lessons. She wished it would be that easy with her.

The doorbell rang, and Brennan squeezed out of the kitchen to answer it, for Booth already had his hands full with dinner and the kids. "It's probably Mrs. Mitchell forgetting her keys again," Booth remarked, referring to their elderly neighbor who was a frequent dinnertime visitor due to her penchant for misplacing her keys. Brennan did not respond; instead, she opened the door to find someone who was definitely not their neighbor.

"Hi, Tempe," Sully greeted, a wide smile crossing his face. "Uh, these are for you." He held out a bouquet of roses which she accepted automatically. "I didn't know if you'd have plans or not, but I thought I'd drop by and see if you still wanted that dinner."

"Actually, Sully, I'm not sure about that."

"Something smells good," he remarked, stepping closer to her. She automatically stepped out of the doorway, letting him pass into the apartment.

"Spaghetti," Brennan answered automatically.

"Look, Tempe, I know my coming back was a complete surprise," he told her. "But I really want to give us another shot. I think we were great together, and I've been doing a lot of thinking, and I think you might be it for me."

Brennan was silent for a moment, unsure of exactly how to respond, but Booth's voice cut through the silence before she could speak. "You need to tell her to get a spare key for us, Bones, because I'm really sick of knifing her door. . . oh, Sully." He trailed off as he emerged from the kitchen, wiping his hands on his t-shirt.

"Booth?" Sully's jaw dropped as he looked from Booth to Brennan and back again. Brennan saw Booth stand straighter, his eyes boring into Sully.

A few seconds later, Parker walked out of the kitchen, interrupting one of the most ridiculous displays of alpha male posturing that Brennan had seen in awhile. "Dad, the sauce is bubbling. Is it 'sposed to do that?" he questioned.

"Come on, Bub, we'll go look at it," Booth told his son, casting one final glance at Sully before disappearing back into the kitchen. Sully cleared his throat.

"So you and Booth, how long have you two been. . . uh. . ."

"Dating? In a sexual relationship?" Brennan supplied. "Almost five months."

"Wow. So you two are serious then?"

"I love him." Sully stared at her for a moment, amazed at how easily the three words slid from her mouth. This was certainly a different woman than the one he had left more than two years before. That Temperance Brennan would never have used those words; he had told her he loved her at one point in their relationship, and she had told him that love did not exist and proceeded to explain the scientific reason for his feelings. Needless to say, he had never repeated that particular phrase again, and he had certainly never heard her utter the words. "You didn't think you could just walk back in here and we could start up where we left off, did you?" Brennan questioned. "You left, Sully. You sailed off to the Caribbean."

"I offered to let you come with me," he reminded me.

"You knew I couldn't do that. I couldn't leave my work behind."

"No, you couldn't leave Booth behind," he corrected.

"I've moved on, Sully. What we had was good while it lasted, but that was a long time ago." He noticed how she ignored his comment but chose not to remark on this. "Would you like to stay for dinner? Booth always cooks too much anyway."

Sully thought about the request for a minute. Though part of him wanted to hit the nearest bar and let alcohol nurse his pride back to health, he knew his presence at dinner would annoy Booth, and he was feeling somewhat vindictive toward his former coworker. "Sure. That sounds good," he agreed.

"What sounds good?" Booth questioned, emerging from the kitchen again, this time with both kids in tow carrying silverware and plates.

"Sully's staying for dinner," Brennan informed him.

Booth's eyes flashed, and Sully felt a momentary victory. "Okay," he said shortly, still somewhat tense. "We have plenty of food. Kristen, you want to go grab another plate and set of silverware?" Kristen quickly set the plates she was carrying on the table and traipsed back into the kitchen to receive the desired items.

"Is she a friend of Parker's?" Sully asked, staring at the girl's retreating back.

"She's our foster daughter," Booth corrected, stressing the word our. Sully seemed slightly taken-aback at this revelation, but before he could inquire further, Kristen had returned with the plate and silverware.

"Who's that?" she queried with her usual bluntness, pointing to Sully.

"He's an old friend of ours," Brennan informed her.

"He's your old boyfriend, isn't he?" Kristen guessed, staring at Brennan. Damn. The kid was too perceptive for her own good sometimes.

"You know what, the past is in the past," Booth declared firmly. "Now come on Munchkin, chop, chop. Help Parks finish setting the table or it'll be next year before we can eat dinner." He shooed her over to the table as he spoke.

"Dad, you're exaggeratin'," she told him with a roll of her eyes.

"I don't exaggerate," Booth said, smirking. A loud wail sounded throughout the apartment, and Brennan moved toward his room. "I've got him," Booth assured her, moving past her. "You just entertain our guest." There was something about the way he said "guest" that made Brennan raise her eyebrows, but he was already past her and moving toward the bedroom that all three kids shared.

"And that was. . . ?" Sully inquired.

"Kristen's brother, our foster son. Noah," Brennan answered.

"Three kids in this apartment? You must be pretty cramped."

"We are," Brennan agreed. "But we're working on fixing up a house."

"Oh? I never really saw you as the settling down, house type."

"I never really have been. But it seems to be the most logical course of action, and Booth really likes it. And it's actually a very nice house or will be once we've fixed it up." They fell into silence which was broken by Booth as he emerged from the bedroom, holding Noah above his head as he blew raspberries on the infant's stomach. He passed Noah to Brennan when he walked by her. "I'm going to get dinner on the table," he told her. "He's been changed, now he just needs to be fed." Brennan nodded, following him into the kitchen to heat up a bottle. Sully started to follow, too, but his way was barred by Parker and Kristen. Kristen crossed her arms over her chest as they both regarded him carefully.

"I don't like you much," Kristen finally declared.

"You don't even know me."

"You hurt Mom," she said matter-of-factly.

"Tempe? I didn't hurt her. We just had a disagreement."

"Uh huh." Kristen looked as if she did not believe a word he was saying. Looking at them standing there, Sully suddenly felt that he was staring at two mini versions of Booth. Before they could continue to conversation, however, Booth himself appeared behind them carrying a large bowl of salad.

"Come on, you two, go sit down. Dinner'll be out in just a minute." Obediently, the two made their way to the table though Sully noticed that their eyes did not leave him for the entire trip. The night was certainly not turning out to be what he had expected.

Parker said a prayer before eating. Sully kept his eyes open throughout it, never having been a particularly religious man. He noticed that though Brennan did not fold her hands, she did lower her head slightly in acknowledgement of the blessing. It was a strange sight to see; Sully knew that she was not religious at all. He supposed it was Booth's influence; she was trying to respect his faith. Kristen and Parker dominated most of the dinnertime conversation though Brennan and Booth did break out into an argument about halfway through the meal, showing Sully that not everything had changed.

Brennan invited Sully to stay after dinner, and after hearing Booth's grunt of frustration, he simply could not refuse. They all helped clear the table, even the kids, but Brennan stopped Booth before he could start to wash dishes. Leaning over, she whispered something in his ear before pressing her lips tightly against his. Booth turned to her, responding instantly to the kiss, and a wave of jealousy washed over Sully as he remembered that it used to be him on the receiving end of those lips. He immediately recognized, however, that there was something different about the way she kissed Booth. At times, it almost seemed like she was relinquishing control, letting him take over. Sully knew that during their relationship, she had always needed control, and the way she had kissed him reflected this. But with Booth, though she did take control sometimes, he also noticed that there were times when she gave herself to him, letting him take over the reins because she trusted him.

They broke apart, and Booth approached him. "You play basketball, right?" he asked. Sully nodded. "Good. Hey, Parks, Kristen, you wanna play some basketball with me and Sully? I've heard he's pretty good." Immediately, both kids were beside them, and Booth laughed. "Whattya say, Sully? You up for it?"

"You're on."

Sully retrieved his gym bag from his car and changed into sweats and a t-shirt before following them to a court near the apartment building. "So, you want Parker or Kristen?" Booth questioned once they reached the court.

"I'll do fine on my own," Sully assured him, not sure exactly how to play with a young child on his team. "Why don't you just take them both?"

"You sure? That's not exactly fair."

"It'll be fine," Sully assured him.

"Okay. You take ball first." Booth passed him the ball, and he brought it to his chest, protecting it as he watched Booth carefully. With his eyes still focused on Booth, Sully faked to the right before crossing over and dribbling to the left. But Booth was quick; his weight shifted with Sully's, and he stayed with him as Sully started toward the basket. Sully tried every trick he could think of: behind the back, between the legs, crossovers, but Booth was always right there with him. Sully tried to take him to the basket; unfortunately, Booth was bigger than he was, and it was no problem for the agent to crowd him out from the basket. Sully tried to shoot, but he was off-balance, and the shot ended up hitting the rim and bouncing off into Kristen's waiting hands. She eagerly dribbled it back behind the three-point line before passing it to Parker who passed it to his father.

It quickly became apparent that though Sully was good at basketball, Booth was better. He stepped to the right, and Sully went with him, but Booth simply crossed the ball over to his other hand and blazed by the smaller man, heading straight for the basket. Instead of going for the easy lay-up, he bounce passed the ball to Parker who stood under the basket. The boy threw the ball up, but the ball sailed under the net. Booth rebounded easily, this time letting Kristen take the shot. Sully was close enough that he could have blocked Kristen's shot, but he could not bring himself to do that to a kid. He regretted his decision, however, when the ball hit the backboard and dropped neatly into the net.

Booth let the kids take most of the shots in the game. The only time he shot, he would try for a fancy shot, including a backwards left-handed lay-up and a three-point shot from 25 feet, both of which somehow fell. By the time they took a break for water, Sully was trailing pretty far behind. Booth downed almost the full bottle of water that he had brought out before setting it down again and turning to see that Brennan had joined them, bringing Noah with her. Booth's eyes met hers, and he smiled. Time to show her who the alpha male was.

He turned back to Sully who had finished his own water. The kids still seemed pretty tired and engrossed in a discussion with Brennan, so he doubted they would mind taking a break for a few minutes. "Hey, Sully, how about some one-on-one?" Booth challenged, his eyes alight.

Sully considered the offer for a minute. He knew what Booth was doing; he, too, had noticed that Brennan was now outside with them. But despite his knowledge of what Booth was doing, he simply could not turn down a challenge. "Okay," he agreed.

"Excellent." Booth's grin grew wider. "We'll play 'til eleven, win by two. Call your own fouls. You can have the ball first." He passed the ball to Sully who caught it against his chest.

"Are you sure? You don't want to shoot for it?"

"Positive. Just take it." Booth was not going to give him any excuses. He didn't want to win only to have Sully claim that he cheated or gained an advantage in some way.

Sully checked the ball to begin the game. He managed to score two baskets before an errant shot hit the rim. Booth easily caught the rebound and took the ball to the top. As soon as he checked the ball, Sully dropped, ready to move wherever Booth did. But Booth had other plans. As soon as the ball was in his hands, he raised it and released it in a smooth arc, sending it neatly into the basket. Sully did not even have a chance to react. Booth smirked.

The game simply went downhill from there for Sully. Booth was quick, and he seemed to expend virtually no effort in blowing past Sully. He made an easy lay-up before starting to take more difficult shots. It seemed there was not a shot Booth was afraid to take, and more often than not, his crazy shots fell. Sully managed to get the ball back once more and score another lay-up, but Booth was at eleven in no time. He did a victory lay-up, slapping an open palm against the backboard, an action which elicited loud cheers from Parker and Kristen. Retrieving the ball, he approached Sully and held out a hand. "Good game," he said.

"Yeah, good game," Sully agreed. Booth smiled at him before walking over to where Brennan sat with the kids.

"So, what did you think?" he asked, trying to appear casual.

"You really are an alpha male."

"And you love me for it," he countered.

"You're really good."

Leaning closer so the kids wouldn't hear, he whispered, "Does that turn you on?"

"What do you think?" Still smirking, he pressed his lips to hers.

When he pulled back, he turned to Parker and Kristen. "Let's go and show Sully how you really play basketball," he said, smiling.

An hour later, Brennan and Sully sat together on the couch, Sully with a beer and Brennan with a glass of water. Booth had disappeared into the back room to put the kids to bed, leaving the two alone. "Can I ask you a question, Tempe?" Sully inquired after a few minutes of silence.

"Sure."

"If Booth asked you right now to sail around the Caribbean with him for a year, would you go?"

Brennan stared at him in confusion. "What? You mean like you did?"

"Yes, like I did."

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why are you asking?"

"Idle curiosity."

"Well, the question is irrelevant. Booth would never want to sail around the Caribbean for a year. He's very committed to his job and the kids."

"Consider it a hypothetical situation. Maybe Booth gets bored with his job and pretend the kids aren't around."

"It would never happen. Even if for some reason, Booth decided to sail around the Caribbean for a year, which he wouldn't, he would never force me to make a decision between him and my work. That's just not him."

"I said it was hypothetical, Tempe."

"She's right, you know," Booth remarked from behind them. They turned to see him leaning in the doorway which led from the bedroom into the living room. Pushing himself up, he started into the room. "I would never force her to make that decision."

"Oh, for Christ's sakes! Could you just pretend for a moment that Booth is a selfish bastard who decides that for some unknown reason, he doesn't want to spend the rest of his life staring at dead bodies. That he, I don't know, wants to expand his horizons, live a little. And so he asks you to come with him to sail around the Caribbean. Like I said, it's hypothetical." His voice dripped sarcasm.

"She doesn't like hypothetical situations," Booth said at the same time as Brennan remarked, "I don't like hypothetical situations."

"Could you just answer the question?" Sully asked, now frustrated.

"Bones, you don't-"

"Yes, okay!" Brennan shouted, heedless of the kids in the next room. And with that, she jumped up from the couch and ran from the room.

"Goddammit, Sully, that's why things would never have worked out between you two," Booth growled. "You just keep pushing and pushing."

"Sometimes, people need a little push."

"A little push maybe. But you're shoving. You shoved when you two were together, and you're doing it now. And God help me, if you screw something up between us, I will personally make sure you never get a chance to shove again." He rose to his seat, and Sully followed suit. Booth stopped him with a firm hand on the other man's chest. Fire danced in Booth's eyes as he tried to control his temper. "Not this time, Sully. You had your chance. Leave."

Sully wondered if he had a death wish because he could not stop the next words which came from his mouth. "But Tempe-"

"I will take care of her. Just like I've been doing for four years." Booth stepped closer, crowding Sully. He had at least four inches and a good thirty pounds on the other man, and Sully took a step backwards automatically.

"Well, I should get going then," Sully declared as if leaving had been his idea all along. Booth nodded, watching as he made his way quickly to the door.

"Sully?" he called just before the other man disappeared. Sully turned to face him. "Don't come back here again," Booth warned.

He found Brennan in their bedroom, just where he had expected her to be. She was sitting on the bed, her laptop open in front of her, ostensibly writing. "I don't want to talk about it," she told him when she heard him come in.

"Okay. Then we won't talk about it." He climbed into bed next to her, reaching for a novel that he had been reading.

"It's true, you know," she remarked after a few minutes. He set his book aside and turned to find that she was looking at him, tears shimmering in her eyes. "If you asked me to sail with you around the Caribbean for a year, I'd go."

"And that scares you?" He still had not touched her; they simply sat there, a couple feet from one another, staring at each other. She caught her bottom lip between her teeth and chewed on it for a moment before nodding.

"I don't know what I'd do without you, Booth. I've never felt this way about anyone before. I don't like relying on other people, having my happiness depend on them."

"You're not the only one who's scared, Temperance. God, I love you so much it hurts sometimes. I can't imagine my life without you." His eyes met hers, and she knew that he did not speak idly. He spoke the truth, and the intensity of his words and the emotions behind them made them both pause.

"Will it always feel like this?"

"I can't say for sure because I've never felt like this before. But I have a feeling that it will. The feelings I have certainly aren't going to go away anytime soon."

"Is it worth it?"

"What do you think, Bones?"

"I don't know. I mean, what if something were to happen to you? I don't know if I could continue without you. Is the possibility of such a devastating loss worth it?"

"Bones, I'm not going anywhere for a long time."

"You can't know that, Booth. And I don't know how well I can deal with losing you. When I thought you had died. . ." Here, she broke off, and Booth felt a wave of guilt wash over him. He had not wanted her to believe he was dead; he had included her on his list of people to tell for that reason. And then Sweets had to go and mess everything up. . .

"Look, Bones, the thought of losing you terrifies me, too. But this, right here," he reached out and took her hand, touching her for the first time since entering the room, "this I wouldn't trade for anything."

She smiled at him and pulled their joined hands against her chest, resting them just above her heart. "Booth? It's definitely worth it." His smile echoed hers as he tugged her closer, bringing their lips together in a soft kiss. Their love-making that night was different than it ever had been before. It was slow and sensual and filled with the new depth of emotion that they had discovered that night. Afterwards, they lay together, Brennan cocooned in Booth's arms. They did not speak , both still thinking about the implications of their words.

Booth dropped Brennan off at the lab the next morning so he could return to the Hoover for a meeting. After dropping Noah off at daycare, Brennan made her way to the lab, grabbing her lab coat from the rack just inside the door as she entered. "Dr. Brennan!" Hodgins called to her from his computer. Shrugging her lab coat over her shoulders, she joined him on the platform.

"What is it, Hodgins?" she questioned, peering over his shoulder. 

"There was a locket found on the body," Hodgins told her, holding up a clear plastic evidence bag which contained a tarnished silver heart-shaped object on a chain. "I cleaned it up and found an engraving on the left-hand side." He clicked a few buttons on the computer and brought up a magnified picture of the locket.

"S.Y. and K.L.," Brennan read. "Neither of those are our victim's initials."

"I know," Hodgins told her. "The locket might have belonged to our killer."

"That's speculation."

"Well, there was also a picture on the other side, but it was pretty degraded. I couldn't even tell that it was of a person. I gave it to Angela. She's going to see if she can clean it up at all, maybe figure out who the locket belonged to."

"Ask and ye shall receive," Angela announced, emerging from her office. "And I say it again, you're not going to like this one."

"Why?"

"I managed to restore most of the picture," Angela stated, handing Brennan a colored photo that showed a man and a woman, both in their late twenties. They were both smiling at the camera, and he was standing behind her, his arms around her middle. She was pretty with a wide, engaging smile and blue eyes that almost seemed to sparkle. Her skin was smooth and unblemished, her face long and narrow, and her cheekbones high. He, too, was handsome—well-dressed, strong, angular features, and stunning green eyes.

"This isn't Emma Kelly or her husband," Brennan observed.

"They sure don't look like murderers either," Hodgins added.

"They're not. I ran the faces through my facial recognition software. Hers came up with a hit." Angela passed them a second sheet of paper. "Kaitlin Yeats, maiden name Kaitlin London. She was an aerospace engineer at NASA until she was reported missing by her husband Sean Yeats on January 8, 2008. The FBI never found a body."

"We need to call Booth," Brennan announced. Angela and Hodgins both nodded as she pulled out her phone.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 3

"A serial killer," Booth remarked as they drove to the crime scene. "My day just keeps getting better and better."

"It's not necessarily a serial killer. Perhaps the locket was simply dropped there or-"

"A missing woman's locket is found on a dead body in the woods? Trust me, Bones, it's a serial killer." Booth turned the car, bringing it to a stop beside a number of other police vehicles parked just outside the trees. Booth and Brennan both stepped out of the car, joining the police officers who were moving toward the woods, two of them being led by two large German shepherds. Booth rubbed his hands together and blew warm air on his fingers. He knew he had been forgetting something that morning, and now he would be forced to traipse through the woods with no gloves to warm his already freezing hands.

"Stick them in your pockets, Booth," Brennan commanded. He stopped moving his hands and glanced at her out of the corner of his eye before following her instructions with a sigh. She started off into the woods, carrying her field kit in her right hand—which sported a comfortable-looking black glove.

"Hey, Bones, do you want me to get the kit for you?" he questioned.

"It's fine, Booth."

"But should you really be lifting it-"

"It doesn't weigh that much," she told him in a tone that invited no further debate. Defeated, Booth followed her into the woods, thrusting his hands deeper into his pockets.

Just before they reached the crime scene, one of the dogs started to go crazy, veering off to the right through a particularly dense patch of foliage. His handler followed without hesitation, and Brennan did the same, ducking under the thick branches. With no other choice, Booth trailed after them, wincing slightly when an overlooked branch caught him just above the eye. It was not long before the dog sat down, barking loudly. Brennan approached, crouching down in front of the dog. Her fingers swept away the leaves and detritus from the forest floor. After a few seconds, a dirty off-white object could be seen. Even Booth's untrained eye could tell it was a bone. As Brennan started to uncover the rest of the skeleton, another bark could be heard, perhaps fifty yards away. Booth's and Brennan's eyes met as they realized the implications of the second bark.

That afternoon, Brennan stood on the platform, her eyes scanning the skeletons spread out before her. "Seven victims including Emma Kelly," Mr. Nigel-Murray announced. "Did you know seven, aside from the alleged luck associated with it, is also an important number in many religions? I mean, in Christianity alone, you have the seven days of creation, the seven years of plenty and seven years of famine in Pharaoh's dream, the seven loaves of bread that Jesus uses to feed the masses-"

"Okay, Mr. Nigel-Murray, why don't we just focus on these seven victims here?" Cam asked. He nodded, turning back to the bodies.

"They were all women," he announced. "Their ages ranged from late twenties to early forties. Different races."

"This appears to be the earliest victim," Brennan remarked, pointing to the second body from the right. "From the condition of the bones, I would place time of death as five to seven years ago."

"There is a minor depression in the skull here," Mr. Nigel-Murray pointed out. "It's not deep enough to kill but certainly deep enough that it would have rendered her unconscious. There also appears to be a stain in the skull, likely from the pooling of blood outside the brain due to the injury."

"Her bones also show the same signs of torture as the previous victim's. Multiple fractures of the ribs, tibia, phalanges, and metacarpals along with the shallow cuts on the bones of the arms and legs."

"She appears to have an abnormal lateral curvature to the spine," Mr. Nigel-Murray declared. "Thoracolumbar dextroscoliosis."

"Well, that should make her easier to ID," Brennan pointed out. Suddenly, she frowned. "That's odd," she remarked, leaning closer to the skeleton.

"What's odd?" Cam inquired.

"The hyoid bone is still intact. She wasn't strangled."

"Then what was the cause of death?"

"Since the bones show no signs of other fatal wounds, I would say that the most likely cause is the subdural hematoma."

Cam nodded. "Do any of the other victims show evidence of a head injury?"

Brennan checked the other six victims carefully before answering. "No visible one, no. There could be something smaller which a closer examination will reveal, but I see no depressions in the bone during a cursory examination nor any staining which indicates the presence of pooled blood."

"It makes some sense if you think about it," Cam told her. "This was the killer's first victim, so he was still learning, and he knocks her on the head to render her unconscious. Unfortunately, he also causes the bleeding on her brain, but he doesn't realize that until a few days later when she slips into a coma and dies. After that, he doesn't knock his victims out by a blow to the head any more; he drugs them."

"I've got dental records from Kaitlin Yeats," Booth announced as he entered the lab, one hand holding a file folder and the other hand holding Noah's carrier. "And Parker and Kristen are both at soccer practice, and I'm beginning to feel like a damn chauffer." Brennan met him halfway to the platform, and he passed the folder to her. "I figured that if you could match one of those skeletons with her, it would at least give you one less ID to worry about."

"Thanks. I'm already fairly confident of which skeleton it is based on age, race, and time of death." Booth nodded.

"Any progress so far?"

"Some, but it's going to take a lot of time to finish."

"Uh-uh, don't even think about it, Bones. Indoor soccer practice ends at 5:30, and then I'm going to pick the kids up, and I'm going to swing back by here and pick you up, too, so we can go home and have a nice family dinner. Got that?"

"But what about the families of those victims, Booth? They deserve answers."

"And you will give them those answers. But I'm sure they wouldn't begrudge you taking a little time to spend with your own family. Besides, you need to take care of yourself. You can't work yourself into the ground anymore." His hand moved to rest on her abdomen, his thumb lightly caressing her stomach which he continued to insist was slightly swollen. Brennan thought he was trying too hard; she did not see any evidence of a bump which made sense considering she was less than three months pregnant. She still had some time before she began showing.

"Booth-"

"Bones, your work is important, I get that. Believe me, I do. But you have to realize that your family is important, too."

She closed her eyes for a moment before nodding slowly. "Okay. I'll go finish up what I can. Come find me when you're ready to leave."

Brennan had finished the preliminary examination of all the victims by the time Booth returned with the kids, and Mr. Nigel-Murray had placed tissue markers on the first victim. Brennan was checking these tissue markers when Booth made his way to the platform after sending the kids into Brennan's office. "I will be finished in just a moment, Booth. I want to check these tissue markers before I go," Brennan announced, turning the skull over carefully. Booth waited impatiently, tapping his foot, until she finally announced, "These look good, Mr. Nigel-Murray. Why don't you take this skull to Angela?"

"Angela's already left for the day."

"Right. Well, I suppose you can leave the skull here then so that Angela can work on it tomorrow. And I guess you are free to go then, too."

On the way home, Booth asked, "So how was school today, you two?"

"Kristen had to sit out at recess," Parker announced.

"Way to tattle, butthead," Kristen replied.

"Don't call me butthead!"

"I'll call you whatever I want, butthead."

"Dad, did you hear her call me butthead?"

"See, there you go tattling again, whining like a baby."

"I'm not a baby!"

"Are too!"

"Am not!"

"Are too!"

"Am not!" Turning, Parker shoved her as hard as the limited space in the car would allow, and she hit Noah's carseat. The baby began to wail as she straightened and gave Parker a hard shove. They grappled for a few seconds, still shouting insults at each other until Booth's voice cut through the cacophony of noise.

"Hey, do I need to stop this car?" he questioned sternly.

Immediately, the fighting stopped, for both kids knew what would happen if Booth stopped the car. "No, Dad," they chorused, turning to face forward again.

"Good. Now, Kristen, don't insult your brother and Parker, don't tell on your sister. And both of you need to keep your hands to yourself; I don't want to see anymore fighting. Is that clear?" Booth was not sure when he began considering Parker and Kristen brother and sister, but in the past month, he realized that that was exactly what they were. They certainly fought like brother and sister.

"Yes, Dad," came the second chorus. Brennan turned to retrieve Noah in enough time to see Kristen turn and stick her tongue out at Parker.

"I saw that Kristen," Brennan told her.

"Sorry, Mom," Kristen apologized.

"So, Kristen, care to tell us why you had to sit out at recess?" Brennan questioned.

"Do I have to?" Kristen responded.

"Kristen." Booth's voice held a warning tone.

"Fine. Robbie called me stupid, so I told him he was ugly. Mrs. Gregory said we shouldn't call anyone names and made us both apologize and sit out for recess."

"You know, we really need to work on this name-calling thing," Booth remarked. "Mrs. Gregory is right, you shouldn't call other people names. Even if they started it," Booth added, anticipating her next objection. Kristen's mouth clamped shut, and she glared at him mutinously. They spent the rest of the ride in a tense silence broken only by Noah's sobs as Brennan tried to calm him again. Booth led the way into the building, Brennan close behind him and Parker and Kristen bringing up the rear of the group. As they walked up the stairs to Brennan's apartment, Booth heard muttering behind him and turned around in enough time to see Kristen shove Parker against the wall. The boy recovered quickly, flying at Kristen, and both of them landed hard on the steps which were fortunately carpeted. "Kristen! Parker!" Booth shouted, but they continued to tussle, and he stepped over to grab them before they could seriously injure themselves. With some difficulty, he managed to pull them apart, and he stepped down between them to prevent another outbreak of fighting. "I want you two to go silently up to the apartment now; I don't want to hear another word out of either of you. Parker, you go to your room, and Kristen, you go to the living room. You both are to start on homework. No television, no video games, no toys, nothing. Got it?" His voice was dangerously low and calm, and both kids knew immediately that they had pushed him as far as he could go. They nodded solemnly before trudging up the steps. Booth sighed and turned to Brennan. "This day is never going to end," he muttered.

"If you want to go out for a little while after dinner, I can take the kids," she offered.

"Nah, I'm not going to leave you with all of them. That's not fair to you."

"I'll be fine, Booth. I've dealt with all of them by myself before and besides, you did the same thing for me a couple times last week."

"You sure?"

"I'm sure. Go and relax."

Booth grinned and leaned forward to kiss her quickly. "Thanks, Bones."

A small shoving match was going on outside the apartment door when Booth and Brennan reached it, and Booth quickly broke it up, sending the kids to their separate parts of the apartment to work. Booth started dinner while Brennan worked on her next novel and helped the kids with their homework. Parker and Kristen were sulking all through dinner which made the meal a quiet affair, a situation which neither Booth nor Brennan particularly minded after the verbal sparring earlier that evening. The kids disappeared again after dinner, still not speaking, and Booth helped Brennan clean up before heading out for a run with Chance. Once the door shut behind the two, Brennan returned to her computer, her fingers flying over the keyboard as she worked.

Booth returned from his run forty minutes later, but Brennan shooed him out of the house again, telling him to take some more time for himself. With both kids sulking, it was fairly quiet in the house, and she had managed to write a great deal in the time he was gone, but she knew his presence would only distract her. With a grin and a joking comment about how she must not love him any more, he left, telling her that he was going to do some more work on the house. Brennan immersed herself in her writing once more, but she was interrupted fifteen minutes later by an insistent knocking on the door. Groaning in frustration, she saved the document and closed the window before going to answer the door. Parker came skidding into the room in front of her, but she reminded him of his father's instructions to stay in his room, and he reluctantly returned to it. As he trudged back to the room, Brennan opened the door to find Sully standing on the other side, a smile on his face.

"Sully?" she questioned, opening the door wider.

"What's he doing here again?" Kristen inquired from behind her.

"Kristen, homework," Brennan reminded her.

"Finished," Kristen announced proudly.

"Then go work on some reading or math exercises."

"But those are _boring._"

"Fine. Then you can go take your bath and go to bed."

"I don't want to go to bed until Dad gets home. He's right in the middle of his story."

"Those are your options. Make your choice."

"Dr. Bones, I'm bored," Parker's voice whined from the bedroom. "Can I please play my DS now? I promise to be good!"

"No, Park, no video games. Find a book to read or something."

"Seems like you have your hands full," Sully remarked, his smile widening. "Where's Booth?" Sully had watched the agent leave fifteen minutes before while circling the apartment building. Once he knew Booth was gone, Sully had spent fifteen minutes debating whether or not he should go inside before deciding that he would not have an opportunity like the current one, a chance to speak to Brennan without Booth's imposing presence, again.

"He went to do some work on the house," Brennan explained. "Between work and the kids, he was feeling a bit stressed lately."

"So he left you to take care of all three kids by yourself? Surely you've been feeling the same stress?"

"I actually offered to watch the kids. He does more than his fair share of the child rearing plus there have been a number of agents out lately, so he's had a higher than average caseload. I thought he could use a break."

"That's sweet of you," Sully remarked.

"What are you doing here, Sully?"

"I was just in the neighborhood, thought I'd stop by. We never really got a chance to catch up last night." Sully flashed her an award-winning grin. Brennan stepped aside to let him move into the apartment, shutting the door behind him.

"Dr. Bones, what's a-r-c-h-a-i-c?" Parker questioned, emerging from his bedroom.

"Archaic. It's something that's very old and outdated." Parker nodded, disappearing back into the bedroom, engrossed in his book.

"He looks a lot like Booth," Sully observed, watching him go.

"He does. So, can I get you anything to drink?" Brennan had already decided that it was unlikely she was going to get any more work done on her book that day, so she might as well spend some time catching up with an old friend. Sully was usually an engaging conversationalist, and she typically enjoyed talking with him.

"A beer would be great, thanks." Brennan nodded and disappeared into the kitchen. As she emerged once more with a beer, she heard Noah's cries in the next room.

"I'll be right back," she promised, passing the beer to Sully before turning toward the bedroom. She found Noah awake but not in need of a diaper change. Thinking he was probably hungry, she made her way to the kitchen to warm a bottle for him. As she passed the living room, she noticed Kristen was no longer focusing on her work but was instead watching Sully intently as he sipped his beer.

Kristen followed Brennan into the kitchen and stood in front of her as Brennan readied the bottle. "Dad's not going to like that he's here," she informed Brennan.

"Dad won't mind," Brennan argued. "He and Sully are old friends."

Kristen shook her head. "Not after Sully dated you. Dad's not going to be happy that your ex-boyfriend who's still in love with you is here."

Brennan scoffed. "He's not still in love with me."

"Trust me, he is. And he wants you back."

"You're making this into more than it is, Kristen. Sully's just an old friend who wants to catch up." The microwave beeped and Brennan removed the bottle, testing the temperature on her wrist. Satisfied, she offered it to Noah who immediately latched onto the nipple. As they started back to the living room, Brennan said, "Why don't you go take your bath and put on your pajamas?"

"But Dad-"

"You don't have to go to bed just yet. Just get ready for bed."

"You just want to get rid of me because you're afraid I'm right."

"Kristen, please!"

"Okay, fine. But don't say I didn't warn you." Kristen turned back to her room to gather her pajamas as Brennan sat down beside Sully, cradling Noah as the baby sucked noisily on his bottle. Sully watched with interest.

"I must say, I never imagined you with a baby," he remarked.

"I never did either until recently," Brennan told him. "But then we found Noah and Kristen, and I didn't want them to go into the foster system, so this seemed like the best solution for everyone involved." She shifted Noah slightly in her arms.

"And you're happy with this? With settling down?"

"I am happy, but I don't really consider this settling down."

"You're telling me you don't miss the days when you were only responsible for yourself, when you could work whenever you wanted and go out whenever you wanted without having to worry about a babysitter? When your apartment wasn't covered in toys and games and everything else?" Sully gestured to the living room which was indeed covered with everything from Parker's cars to Kristen's markers which had somehow ended up scattered all over the floor.

"Well. . ." Brennan began, and Sully smiled. He knew it would not take long for her to realize that this was not the life she wanted, that at heart she was not the type of person to settle down and have a family. Brennan talked for a short time about the difficulties that came with raising a family and about the bumps in the road along the way. As she was telling Sully about the kids' most recent argument, Kristen came running out of the bedroom, her hair wet and a comb clutched in her hand.

"Mom, can you get the tangles out?" she inquired. Brennan nodded, turning to Sully to offer him Noah. Sully, however, held up his hands.

"I'm not too good with kids," he objected.

Kristen rolled her eyes. "Here, Mom, I'll take him." She held out her arms, and Brennan transferred the infant carefully to her before opening her own arms so that Kristen could climb onto her lap. As she began to slowly work the tangles out of Kristen's hair, inhaling the fruity scent of the shampoo the kids used, a smile spread across Brennan's face. Her mother had repeated this same ritual with her every night when she was a child, and she relished the opportunity to continue the tradition with Kristen. It was moments like these that reminded Brennan why she had grown to enjoy motherhood. She had not "settled" as Sully had suggested. Rather, she had simply added a new facet to her life, one which brought her more enjoyment than she would have ever believed possible.

"Did Parker go to take his bath?" Brennan queried as she drew the comb gently through a particularly difficult knot, pressing her hand above it so that she did not tug too much on Kristen's scalp.

"Yeah," Kristen answered, squirming farther back on Brennan's lap. They talked a little bit more about Kristen's day at school as Brennan finished combing her hair. When she finished, Kristen jumped from Brennan's lap and handed Noah back to her. "Thanks, Mom," she said before disappearing into the bedroom.

"It's worth it, though," Brennan remarked softly, almost as if speaking to herself. "Sure, it's difficult, and there are times when I wonder if it wouldn't be easier if it was just me again. But then there are times when I realize that it's all worth it."

They talked awhile longer about her work and how things were at the Jeffersonian and how her latest novel was progressing. After about half an hour, Brennan stood to put the kids to bed, Sully trailing behind her, still talking about the Caribbean. Both Parker and Kristen objected to going to bed without Booth around, but Brennan insisted that they go anyway. Two forehead kisses, one last-minute bathroom break, one frantic check on the puppy, and two glasses of water later, Brennan finally managed to get them both settled and flipped off the light in the room as she left. Sully still followed close behind.

"You know, Tempe, you're pretty good at this motherhood thing," he remarked.

"Thanks," she responded, distracted. It was getting late; she wondered where Booth could be and why he had not called. A whole host of unpleasant scenarios ran through her mind. Perhaps he was trapped in the SUV, slowly bleeding out from multiple lacerations after his SUV skidded off the icy road. Or perhaps he. . .

Before she became too carried away imagining what might have happened, Brennan pulled out her phone and pressed the first button on speed dial. A rock song that she did not recognize played from the general direction of the kitchen, and she made her way there to find his phone sitting on the edge of the counter. Well, that explained why he had not called. "Something wrong, Tempe?" Sully questioned.

"I'm not sure. I'm just wondering where Booth is. It's not like him to be this late."

"It's not, is it?" Brennan shook her head, too distracted by thoughts of Booth to notice that Sully was slowly moving closer to her. She turned her head and suddenly found his lips pressed to hers. Her reaction was instant; her elbow shot out, catching him squarely in the stomach as her other hand grabbed his arm, forcing him into a kneeling position with his arm twisted behind his back. "What was that about?" he wheezed, coughing as he attempted to catch his breath.

"You kissed me!"

"Yeah, I thought you would be more receptive."

"Why would you think that? I'm in a monogamous relationship with Booth."

"I know. I just thought. . . you know what, never mind. You think you can let me go? I should probably get going." Immediately, she released her grip on his arm, and he stood, rolling his shoulder gently. "Goodbye, Tempe," Sully said. "I'll show myself out." And with that, he walked to the door, leaving Brennan standing in the kitchen wondering what had just happened.

When Booth returned forty-five minutes later, Brennan was working on her novel once more. He breezed through the door, throwing his coat across a chair, words tumbling from his mouth. "Sorry I'm late, Bones, but I put the knobs on the cabinets in the bathroom and was then going to put the final coat of varnish on the cabinets in the kitchen, but it took longer than I had expected. Except I couldn't leave until I finished because I didn't want it to dry, so I had to finish tonight once I started. I was going to call and tell you I'd be late, but I must have left my phone here because I didn't have it. And then on my way home, there was an accident which still has traffic backed up even this late because that's just the way this day's been going."

Brennan held up his phone. "You left it on the kitchen counter." She was still trying to figure out how to tell him what had happened without causing him to set out to murder Sully. She knew that she had to tell him soon because the longer she kept the secret, the longer he had to figure it out, and then his reaction would be twice as ugly.

"Yeah, I figured it might be there. Are the kids in bed?"

"Yeah, I put them to bed about forty-five minutes ago."

"Sorry for leaving you with all that, Bones. I did mean to be back to help."

"It's okay. It's not your fault."

"Anything else happen while I was gone?" She was silent for a few seconds, and Booth became instantly suspicious. His eyes narrowed. "Bones? Don't even think about lying to me."

"I wasn't going to lie to you," she assured him, standing and making her way to the kitchen. Once there, she grabbed a glass and filled it with water, taking a long drink. In truth, she was not particularly thirsty; she was simply trying to find some way to put off the impending conversation. Booth followed her impatiently, his eyes still narrowed dangerously and his arms now crossed across his chest.

"Well?" he finally asked. She slowly placed the glass on the counter.

"I'm just trying to figure out the best way to tell you."

"Tell me what?"

"Sully was over."

"What? Did he hurt you or the kids? Because if he did, I swear to God, I'll-"

"No, Booth, he didn't hurt us. If anything, he's the one who was hurt."

"What?"

"I may have elbowed him in the diaphragm and twisted his arm behind his back."

"Why? Last time you did that, it was because-" Booth suddenly broke off, his eyes flashing, and Brennan knew that he knew. "He made a pass at you," Booth growled.

"It was harmless, Booth. He just kissed me. I took him down almost immediately."

"Goddammit, Bones, it was not harmless. The bastard kissed you when he knew you were taken. I just want to-"

"Stop, Booth!" She enforced her words with a firm hand on his bicep. "Hurting Sully is not going to get you anywhere."

"I don't know. It might make me feel a hell of a lot better."

"Booth, please, just let it go." She thought for a moment that he was not going to listen to her, that he would go harrowing off to do something which would get him into serious trouble. Instead, however, she found him suddenly directly in front of her, his hard, muscular body pressed against hers. She stumbled back a few inches before her back hit the refrigerator, the cool exterior of the appliance in stark contrast to the warm heat of his body in front of her. His hands came forward to brace himself against the refrigerator as his lips descended on hers, pressing against them with an almost bruising force.

"I'm going to make damn sure you forget about that stupid kiss earlier," he growled as he pulled away briefly.

"Already forgotten," Brennan breathed, her hands reaching to pull his lips back to hers. He complied immediately, stepping closer so that she could feel every inch of his body pressed against hers from the hard muscles of his torso to the evidence of his arousal pressed into the soft flesh of her side.

"Well then I'm going to make sure it stays that way," he muttered into her mouth, one hand moving behind her head as his fingers tangled in her hair, pulling her head to his though Brennan felt they were already as close as physically possible. His tongue left his mouth, pressing insistently into hers, eliciting a low moan from Brennan. He seemed satisfied with this response, for he pushed his tongue farther into her mouth as his second hand moved down to cup her ass, grinding her hips against his. "Because I'm the only one who gets to do this," he growled, pulling his lips from hers. Brennan did not respond, still breathless. His lips next moved to her neck, sucking and biting the flesh there. "Or this," he added, his voice still a low grumble. Logically, Brennan knew he was acting as an alpha-male again, marking what he considered his territory so that no one would try to infringe upon it again. Normally, she would have objected to being treated as a piece of property, but at that moment, all she could focus on was what he was doing to her and the pleasant sensations it was causing to race through her body. "Or this." The hand behind her head danced lower, massaging her breast through her blouse. She moaned loudly.

"And definitely not this." The second hand circled around to her front, moving between her legs where he could already feel the heat of her desire. Her hips moved, but he removed the hand, placing it against her abdomen instead. Her hips ground against his, trying to increase friction as she pressed against him, letting out a slight whimper as his hand moved under her blouse, caressing the warm skin of her abdomen. It was not long before his hand moved upwards, pushing her bra aside as his frantic fingers ran over the flesh there. It was more forceful than their usual love-making, his caresses no longer gentle but frenzied, his frustration from the day now driving his actions. Not that Brennan was complaining.

His lips moved lower, attacking her collarbone as his hands moved over her chest, augmenting her arousal. She let her head fall against the refrigerator, her fingers raking down his back. Needing to feel his skin, she slipped her hands under the hem of his shirt in the back, the pads of her fingers flitting over the smooth contours of his back. Her fingers found the thin, raised lines there, reminders of his time in the army. She had seen them before, and he had told her the story of his torture, but it still did not stop her from tracing the lines, from thinking about how close he had come to death. They had both come close to death, actually, and both had the scars to show from it. Thinking about it, she realized that the fact that they were both still alive and together was a testament to their strength and determination.

Booth's groping hands reached her slacks, unbuttoning them. Grasping her hips, he forced them down, dragging her underwear with them. His lips found hers again, his mouth devouring hers as their tongues dueled fiercely. One hand went to work on his own pants while the other unbuttoned the top two buttons of her blouse before pushing aside the fabric and insinuating itself between fabric and skin. Somehow, his fumbling fingers managed to pop the button to his jeans and pull down the zipper. If either partner was thinking rationally at the moment, they would realize that they were standing in the kitchen with the only door separating them from the three kids in the apartment the bedroom door. Either Parker or Kristen could walk in at any time, and they would certainly have a lot of explaining to do. But they were not thinking straight at that moment, too blinded by frustration and desire. And so they continued.

It was later as Booth leaned against her, his forehead pressed against hers, that Brennan finally remembered the kids. "Booth, Parker, Kristen," she said, frantically pushing at his chest to move him off of her.

He blew air out through his teeth and hastily moved away from her, pulling his pants on. "That could have been very bad," he remarked, zipping his fly. Brennan nodded as she pulled on her own pants and redid the buttons of her blouse. She was suddenly aware of something cold and wet on her back, and it took her a moment to realize what had happened. When she did, she chuckled. "What?" Booth asked.

"We should probably mop up the water," Brennan remarked, pointing to the large puddle of water beneath her feet. When Booth had pressed her against the refrigerator, her back had pushed against the button which dispensed cold water, soaking the back of her shirt and pants and the floor. Smiling slightly, Booth disappeared and returned with a couple towels from the hall closet.

"You know," he remarked as he dropped the towels on the puddle and used his foot to push them around to soak up all the moisture, "I think this day might be turning around."

Brennan was searching for a couple files in her office the next day when Angela breezed in. "So, Bren, I've put off discussing this with you because of the case, but I'm getting sick of waiting."

"What did you want to discuss, Ange?" Brennan questioned, still distracted by her quest to find the files. She thought she had placed them on her desk.

"Sully's back in town."

"I know, Ange. I've seen him."

"I know you have, Sweetie, but I was just wondering if you knew why he was back."

"He said something to Booth about opening a sandwich shop." Brennan opened the top drawer of her desk and found the files sitting on top of its contents. She grabbed them triumphantly, turning to leave her office with them.

"What about his intentions with you, Sweetie? Does he want to get back together? Does he know that you and Booth are together now?"

"He does know Booth and I are back together as he showed up at my apartment unannounced the other evening. As for his intentions with me, I thought he just wanted to catch up, but his actions last night seem to indicate that I was wrong."

"What did he do last night?"

"He kissed me."

"What? After he knew about you and Booth?"

"He claimed that he thought I wasn't happy with Booth. It wasn't that big of a deal; I dealt with the situation, and he left."

"In other words, you beat him up." Angela smiled broadly at her friend. "So, how did Booth take this whole thing? You have told him, right?"

"We ended up having sex against the refrigerator. And now, I have to get back to work." Brennan moved past Angela toward the lab, and Angela followed quickly, still spluttering incoherently at Brennan's latest revelation.

Booth arrived about fifteen minutes later with three folders of information. "Based on the data you've given me, I have ID's for three more of the victims." Booth placed the folders on a side table, opening each as he spoke, revealing three color photos of the victims. "Rebecca Morris, age 36, Linda Nunn, age 42, and Melissa Straits, age 29. I brought dentals, and as soon as you get confirmation, I can notify the families." His voice was even, but Brennan knew him well enough to sense the sadness in his tone.

"The shallow grooves all appear to have been made by the same knife," Mr. Nigel-Murray announced. "It's a straight knife, probably a hunting knife or something similar. Did you know that-"

"No, and I don't really care to," Booth said quickly before he could spout off random, completely unrelated facts. "Is there anything else?"

"There's something here," Brennan remarked, bending over one of the unidentified bodies. Reaching for a pair or tweezers, she used them to carefully extract something thin and rectangular from the body. She placed it in a small metal tray beside her. "It's some kind of cellulosic material."

"Paper?" Booth questioned.

"Yes. It's fairly degraded, so I'm not sure if we'll ever be able to tell what was written on it. Hodgins might be able to give a more concrete identification, however, based on its composition."

"Did I hear my name?" Hodgins questioned, walking onto the platform. He turned to Booth, holding up a sample jar. "_Cicindela dorsalis_," he announced proudly.

"Is that supposed to mean something?" Booth questioned.

"I found it on two of our victims."

"So? They were in a forest. There are a lot of bugs in a forest," Booth pointed out.

"Not these babies. They prefer beaches along the Atlantic coast and Chesapeake Bay. The bodies were found too far inland."

"Our guy must have held his victims in a building somewhere near the coast. Can you narrow it down any further?"

"Sorry, dude, but I can only do so much. I'm still analyzing the soil around the bodies to see if I can find anything out of the ordinary, but so far, it's all fairly typical forest soil from that area. Did you guys have something else for me?"

"This was with one of the bodies," Brennan announced, passing him the metal tray. "It was likely in her pocket and sunk in during decomposition."

"I'll see what I can do with it," Hodgins promised.

"Booth! Brennan! There's something you two might want to see," Angela called. Together, both partners headed to her office. When they reached it, Angela was standing in front of the central table with her touchpad in her hands. "I inputted the data from the wounds on the first victim," Angela announced, pressing a few buttons. A 3D image of a woman appeared in front of them, spinning around slowly, revealing a number of areas highlighted in yellow, marking her wounds. "Using this data, I could estimate the force and angle of the blows and from there determine the height and weight of the attacker." Another press of a button caused a second figure to appear in front of the first, his fist raised above his head. He delivered a few blows to the victim, and the areas where he hit pulsed red. After a few seconds, Angela stopped the scene. "You get the idea," she said quickly. Another couple clicks removed the victim, leaving only the attacker on the screen. "Your guy is between 6'1" and 6'2" and approximately 180 pounds,"

"Have you compared the wounds from the other victims to ensure they're consistent?" Brennan questioned.

Angela shook her head. "Not yet. That was my next step."

"Good work, Angela. Can you let me know when you finish that?"

"Sure thing, Sweetie." Angela turned back to her touchpad as Booth and Brennan left the room. With a few clicks, a holographic image of the second victim appeared in front of her. "Sometimes, I really hate my job," she muttered to herself.

"So we're looking for a fairly large guy, likely someone in decent shape, maybe an athlete or something." Booth remarked later as he and Brennan sat at the diner. He reached across the table and snatched one of Brennan's fries from her plate. She swatted at his hand, but he simply smirked as he brought the stolen fry to his mouth.

"What makes you say he's an athlete?"

"Think about the victims; they were all strong women, all fighters. Rebecca Morris was a black belt in karate, Kaitlin Yeats loved kickboxing, and Melissa Straits was a cop. And he picked professional women, too: a federal prosecutor, an engineer, a CFO, a surgeon, and a cop. All women in male-dominated professions, women who knew the meaning of hard work and who had drive and ambition. This guy thrives on that. He likes to take powerful women and make them feel powerless."

"You're starting to sound like Sweets."

"No, I'm not. If I was Sweets, it would be more like, 'This dude digs powerful chicks'." They both chuckled at this.

"Is one of you Agent Booth?" a voice questioned from beside them. Booth turned to see their waitress standing next to the table, her eyes not meeting theirs and her hands moving aimlessly, sure indicators that she was nervous.

"I'm Agent Booth," Booth replied guardedly.

"Here. I was told to give you this." She stuck out a hand which was shaking slightly and held an unmarked white envelope. Booth took it, glancing up at her.

"Who told you?" he questioned. She bit her lip and did not respond. Suspicious now, Booth carefully opened the envelope to find a single note card inside. Taped onto the card were two words which had obviously been cut out of a newspaper: "Back Off." Wordlessly, he turned the card around to Brennan, and their eyes met, each wondering what this new development entailed for their investigation.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 4

"I questioned the waitress, and she couldn't tell me anything about the guy who gave her the envelope except that he was wearing a baseball cap, sunglasses, jeans, hiking boots, and a heavy black coat. Evidently, he was about six feet tall and looked pretty well-built. But she didn't get eye color or hair color or any estimate of his age," Booth informed Brennan as he entered her office later that day. With a loud sigh, he sank down onto her couch. Brennan glanced over at him.

"How does he know you're investigating the murders?" Brennan questioned.

"That place was crawling with reporters when we brought those bodies out of the woods," Booth reminded her. "We tried to keep them back, but I wouldn't be surprised if one of them got a shot of us."

"And he saw it and figured out who you were?"

"It's not exactly hard. It's not like I try to keep my identity a secret, plus we've been in the papers before." Booth sighed again. "I gave the envelope and card to the FBI forensics team. They're going to try to pull some fingerprints off it, see if there's anything that doesn't belong to me or the waitress. I'm going to go talk to the families of the victims, see if I can find any link between them. You wanna come?"

"No, I think I will be of more use here. I still need to finish my examination of all the victims." Booth nodded, pushing himself to his feet.

"I'll get the kids after I finish."

Three hours later, Booth breezed into the lab with Noah in one arm and Parker traipsing beside him, talking excitedly. "You're missing one," Angela remarked, nodding to the two kids.

"Kristen's at basketball," Booth told her.

"Hey, Dad, can I go downstairs to see the dinosaurs?" Parker queried. Booth turned to look at him, considering his request. With all the time he had spent in the Jeffersonian, he had come to know the curators of most of the exhibits along with security guards and other workers at the Jeffersonian. Because of his love of dinosaurs, he was especially close to the curator of the fossil exhibit.

"Sure, Bub," Booth agreed.

"I'll take him, Seeley," Cam offered from behind him. "Angela has something for you." Booth nodded, and Cam held out a hand. Parker ran excitedly toward her, words already pouring from his mouth.

As the two left, Booth turned back to Angela. "You have something for me?"

"ID's for the last two victims," Angela said, entering her office with Booth trailing behind. "Allison Briggs, 39, and Penny King, 31. Allison was a professor of chemistry at Georgetown and Penny was a defense attorney."

"They fit his victim profile," Booth noted.

"Yeah. Beautiful, successful women. Penny also taught a self-defense class at night and Allison played softball in college. Evidently, she still helps out with the Georgetown team. I also inputted data from the rest of the wounds. It all matches. There was only one assailant."

"Thanks, Angela." He started to leave.

"Booth?" Booth turned to face her from where he stood in the doorway. "Catch this guy. Please." Booth nodded.

"I intend to."

His next stop was Brennan's office which he found empty. Since she was also not on the central platform, he stopped by Angela's office again. "Hey, Angela, have you seen Bones?" he questioned. Angela looked up from her touchpad.

"Not recently, no. Is something wrong?"

"I don't think so. She's probably just in another room or something." Despite his statement, however, Booth could not erase the lines of worry from his face. "Hey, do you think you can watch Noah for a few minutes while I find her?"

"Sure, no problem. Hey, little guy!" Angela's attention was soon diverted to the infant as Booth passed her the carrier and left the room.

He first checked all the side rooms of the lab, finding all of them empty. Just as he was beginning to panic, he turned suddenly and found himself face to face with Brennan. "Bones! Where were you? I was looking everywhere." Noting the pallor of her face, his concern returned suddenly. "Hey, Bones, are you okay? You don't look so good," he remarked.

"I'm fine, Booth. Just a little nauseous. I forgot my medicine this morning."

"You're still feeling sick? Shouldn't morning sickness be over by now?"

"It should be ending, soon, yes, but it's different for everyone."

"You sure you don't want to lie down?"

"I'm fine, Booth. I finished cleaning all the bones. I found fibers in what little was left of the tissue around the neck, probably from whatever the killer used to strangle the victims. I gave it to Hodgins to analyze." As she spoke, she made her way toward the central platform, swiping her card as she climbed up.

"Anything else?"

Brennan was silent for a moment, staring at the bodies before turning to face Booth her lip caught between her teeth. "These women, Booth," she began, pausing as her voice cracked. After taking a deep breath. "They were tortured, likely for weeks. Their bone densities are below average considering their ages and the amount they exercised, indicating that they did not have adequate nutrition for a significant period of time. There are bone fractures all over their bodies, some obviously made by fists and others which are more consistent with kicking. Some of the injuries, Booth. . ." Here, she paused again for a few seconds. "The second victim, her hand was crushed, likely by a foot pressing down. The third victim had a compound fracture of the tibia which likely persisted for days without treatment. The fifth victim had gravel in the bones of her face. I just can't fathom what person would do this to another."

Throughout her impassioned speech, Booth watched her carefully, his warm brown eyes wide with concern. When she had finished, he took two fingers and placed them under her chin, tipping her face up so that her eyes met his. "I can't fathom it either, Bones, but whoever it is, we're going to find him." Brennan nodded, stepping closer to him, and he wrapped his arms around her, holding her close as he pressed a kiss to her hair. He knew a lot of people were thrown off by her cold exterior, but he had learned during the years that he had worked with her that she had one of the warmest hearts of anyone he knew. She cared for every victim on her table, and every death hurt her. Her compartmentalizing was simply her way of dealing with the death which surrounded her, of keeping herself focused on her work so that she could give names to faceless victims and bring closure to their families.

"You'll never guess what I found," Hodgins remarked, emerging from his lab. He stopped when he saw the two on the platform. "Whoa, am I interrupting something?" Brennan stepped away from Booth quickly, swallowing hard.

"No, Hodgins, what is it?"

"Each victim except the first was buried with some piece of jewelry that belonged to the previous victim. A wedding ring, a locket, a watch."

"Yeah, Hodgins, I know. The killer kept trinkets as reminders until he took his next victim when he didn't need the reminder anymore, so he got rid of it," Booth said.

"Right. Well, I analyzed all the objects. I didn't find any prints, however, I did find traces of allantoin. It's present in the urine of most mammals except us and some apes. It's their means of getting rid of nitrogenous waste."

"So there's some kind of animal pee on the jewelry? They were found in the woods, Hodgins. It's likely that a number of animals were around the bodies."

"But the pH levels of this urine suggest that it is from _Canis lupus_. A common dog."

"So our guy owns a dog? Any way to know what type?" Booth questioned.

"Sorry, but different breeds don't have different urine."

"Anything else?" Brennan inquired.

"I analyzed the cellulose that you found in the body. It had traces of kaolinite in it which means the paper was coated like a page from a magazine or something. I gave it to Angela, and she's trying to pull an image off of it."

"There's no trying to it, Hodgie. I did it." Angela walked out of her office, a single sheet of paper in her hand. She handed it to Booth and Brennan who both looked to see that it showed Penny King standing in the front of a courtroom. "It was a magazine article about her a couple months ago after a fairly high-profile mob case that she worked on. Likely, it's how our killer found her."

"And the others?" Booth asked.

"I checked. There were either magazine or newspaper articles about all of them two months or less before they disappeared. That's how he chose his victims. He let the media do it for him."

"I'm guessing there's no way to guess his next victim using that information," Hodgins surmised.

Booth shook his head. "Even if we stuck to papers in this area, there would be dozens of women who fit his profile, possibly hundreds. Besides, we have no real way of knowing when he's going to take his next victim. He's taking them more often now than he was at the beginning which means he's getting comfortable."

"For all we know, he could have taken someone already. I could run all recent Missing Persons reports against his victim profile, see if one sticks out," Angela suggested. Booth nodded.

"And I still have particulates to examine," Hodgins announced, heading back to his office. "Maybe something will come up." Booth and Brennan turned to leave, too, but Angela stopped them.

"Bren, do you want to go out tonight, grab a drink or something? I feel like we haven't really had much time to hang out lately."

"Ange, I can't drink," Brennan reminded her friend.

"Well, you can have a tonic and lime and I'll have a drink."

"I'll watch the kids," Booth offered.

"Okay, that sounds good," Brennan agreed.

Angela smiled. "Great. I'll meet you at 8:00 at Bill's."

Brennan worked for another twenty minutes while Booth helped Angela with her search before the two partners left to pick up Kristen. They stopped on the way to retrieve Parker from the dinosaur exhibit and were soon privy to everything that he had learned that day. Booth was still amazed at the small boy's ability to retain information. Due to his fascination with dinosaurs, they had bought him a number of books on the topic, and he had memorized them all and could recite facts about the creatures that even Brennan did not know.

As soon as Kristen entered the car, she began to beg Booth to help her practice a new drill that her coach had showed her, and he agreed, promising Parker that he could play, too. Brennan made mac and cheese for dinner that night, a favorite of all of them, and after they cleaned up, Booth and the kids were all out the door and on the small basketball court almost immediately. Brennan watched them for a few minutes as Booth patiently corrected the drill that Kristen was completing, helping Parker learn it as they went along. Chance ran around the fence post to which he was tethered, and Noah slept peacefully on the sidelines in his carseat, Booth glancing over every minute or so to ensure that the infant was still okay. Brennan smiled as she watched him; Booth was a wonderful father, and he seemed to do everything automatically as if fatherhood simply came naturally to him. Her hand dropped to her stomach, resting there for a moment. She was lucky, she knew. Her baby would have a father who was there for him or her, who came to soccer games or ballet classes, who helped with homework, who taught him or her to read and ride a bike, who tucked him or her in each night. They had both had difficult childhoods, but it only made them more determined to do things right with their own children.

When the time came for Brennan to leave, she kissed Booth and the kids goodbye, promising to return within a couple hours. Booth told her to take as much time as she needed, assuring her that he would be fine with the kids. It did not take her long to reach the bar where she had agreed to meet Angela, and she found her friend already there, a martini sitting in front of her. Brennan smiled as she dropped into a seat next to Angela, asking the bartender for a tonic and lime. Angela was right; it had been too long since they had met up to simply enjoy one another's company. Brennan loved Booth, but despite everything he was for her, he was not and could never be a woman (a fact for which she was grateful). And there were some things that just required a conversation with another woman.

"So, Sweetie, how has life been treating you lately?" Angela asked, sipping her drink.

"Life's been. . . really good."

"You and Booth still going strong?"

"Stronger than ever. What about you and Hodgins?"

Angela suddenly became very interested in her drink. She pinched the stem of the olive between her fingers, swirling it around in the liquid for a few minutes as she watched the ripples it created behind it pensively. "Jack and I have decided to take a break for a bit," Angela announced.

"I'm sorry, Ange. What happened?"

"Nothing really. We just realized that we may not love each other as much as we thought. Maybe there's a reason the wedding plans weren't going anywhere."

"Are you sure? I mean, this isn't just cold hands or something, right?"

Angela chuckled slightly. "Cold feet, Sweetie. And no, it isn't. It's. . . well, I don't know exactly what it is. I mean, one minute, everything was going great, and then the next minute, I see my husband again, and Hodgins is talking about how he thinks there's unresolved issues there and that I'm not ready to commit. And I realized that he was right, that I'm not sure I'm ready for marriage. Hell, I'm not even sure if I'm ready for a long-term relationship. And even if I was, I'm not sure if Hodgins is the right guy. Basically, I'm just really confused." She frowned and took a long drink.

"I'm not sure if I'm the best person to give advice, Angela. I mean, I don't have the best history of relationships either. But I trust you. Even if you don't think you do, you're well aware of your feelings for Hodgins and for marriage. And I think that you need me or anyone else to tell you what to do. You just need to do what you feel is right and forget about everyone else."

Angela smiled slightly. "Sounds like you've been hanging out with Booth a lot."

"I will admit that the time I spend with Booth has given me some insight into emotions and relating to people, but I think you've helped me with that, too."

"You're lucky, Sweetie, you know that? You've found a man who's completely in love with you and who would move heaven and earth for you."

"I think Hodgins truly cares for you, too, Angela."

"He does, Sweetie, I know, but it's not like you and Booth. What you two have is special, something that doesn't happen too often. Savor it."

"How do I know it's going to last though?"

"Because it's you and Booth, Sweetie. You two are made for each other."

"Two people can't be made for one another, Angela. It's a biological impossibility." Angela snorted at this. "How do I know that what happened to you and Hodgins isn't going to happen to us, too? Maybe everything will be going great one minute and then suddenly, he'll realize that he doesn't really love me."

"Trust me, Sweetie, that's the last thing you have to worry about. That man loves you more than life itself. I can spend thirty seconds in the room with the two of you and sense it. And I know you love him, too. Which is how I know that what you have is going to stay. You're not Hodgins and I, Bren. You've found the real thing."

"But how do I _know_, Ange?"

"You can never know anything when it comes to relationships. You just have to let yourself feel, to trust yourself to take that leap. Because I know Booth will be there to catch you, no matter what." Brennan raised her eyebrows triumphantly, and Angela chuckled. "Okay, Bren, I get it. I'll take my own advice. But you would be wise to do the same. Follow your heart, Sweetie, and not your head."

They drank in silence for a couple minutes. A handsome, dark-haired man approached, sinking into the chair beside Brennan and attempting to engage her in conversation. She rebuffed his attempt and refused his offer of a drink before turning to Angela. "Angela, what if I'm not a good mother?" she questioned.

Angela shook her head. "Bren, you already are a good mother. Those three kids love you, and they're lucky to have you. And this new little one is, too."

"But what if four's too many? I mean, Booth and I both work. How can we give four kids the time and attention they require?"

"I'm sure you'll find a way. You always do. Besides, if you can fit time for three kids into your already hectic schedule, fitting in time for a fourth should not be an issue. Now, what is this really about?"

"I don't do well with families. I always end up getting hurt. That's why I never wanted a family, why I never wanted a baby until. . ."

"Until you met Booth," Angela guessed. "Look, Bren, I'm not going to lie to you, families are hard work. It's not easy, but at the end of the day, it's all worth it. Because your family are the people who you can always rely on, the people you can go to when everything else seems to be going wrong. And that's why a family is important. And I know you've been hurt in the past, but you have to realize that not every family is going to abandon you. You need to get past that if you want to be truly happy." Angela turned to the bartender and asked for another drink, giving Brennan time to process everything she had told her. The man beside her asked Brennan again if she wanted a drink, and again, she flatly refused. Still, he did not move, and Angela glanced over him quickly. Tall, well-dressed, sharp, angular features, a prominent chin, tanned skin. He was actually very good-looking and obviously not used to being ignored; he was currently trying to determine Brennan's name. She was ignoring him, her body angled toward Angela as she absentmindedly fingered the lime on the rim of her glass, still thinking.

Eventually, the man left, muttering something under his breath. In some ways, Angela was glad, for she hated to see her friend bothered, but she was also slightly disappointed, for he really was pleasant to look at. Angela only wished the attention had been directed her way; she certainly would not have repelled his advances. But then again, this was supposed to be their girls night out, away from men, so she supposed it was a good thing that Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome had left.

She and Brennan spent another hour talking pleasantly before Brennan pleaded tiredness. She offered to drive Angela home as Angela had consumed a fair amount of alcohol by that point, but Angela waved her off, telling her that she had taken a cab to the bar and would take one home. Brennan nodded, and the two parted ways on the sidewalk just outside the bar as Brennan started walking the two blocks back to her car, pulling her heavy coat tighter over her shoulders. It was snowing again, another light dusting that she knew would have Kristen and Parker excited though it still would likely not be enough for the snowman they had been wanting to build.

Brennan sighed as she reached her car, pressing the button on her keys to unlock the door. She really was looking forward to returning home to see the kids. They had likely already gone to bed, but she could at least check in on them, give them a good night kiss before going to bed herself. She was so concentrated on these thoughts that she did not hear the footsteps behind her nor sense the other presence on the otherwise deserted road until it was too late.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 5

Booth checked the clock in the kitchen as he retrieved a beer from the refrigerator, noticing that it read 10:30. He frowned; he had expected Brennan home already. She had said two hours, and she rarely ever gave an inaccurate time, but it had been two and a half hours now. He supposed he might be overreacting; she and Angela could have been caught up in conversation or perhaps she had been stuck in traffic (though the bar was not that far from the apartment, so he could not fathom what traffic she might be caught in). He picked up his cell phone, his finger hovering over the first number, torn between her certain annoyance if he was being too protective and a feeling that something was wrong. As always, intuition won out, and he hit the button, listening with a sinking feeling in his stomach as her phone went straight to voicemail, indicating that it was off.

Before he completely panicked, however, he called Angela, knowing that there were plenty of explanations for why her phone was off. Angela picked up on the second ring. "Hello?" she questioned, her speech slightly slow.

"Angela, is Bones with you?"

"No, we left the bar maybe an hour ago or so. Why? Is she not with you?" She spoke faster now, her voice panicked. Booth was beginning to panic as well.

"She's not." Booth swore loudly before lowering his voice, remembering the other occupants of the apartment. "Look, Angela, I need to make a few calls. Think you can meet me at the lab in about thirty minutes with the rest of the team?"

"Of course. I'll see you then." Booth hung up with Angela and was already dialing Charlie as he walked out the door to Mrs. Mitchell's apartment. He hated going over to her apartment so late, but at the moment, he really did not have another option. He needed to find someone to watch the kids while he found Brennan, and she had babysat for them a couple times before and offered to do it again, claiming that she enjoyed having children around again.

As soon as he explained the situation, she readily agreed to come over to watch the kids, and Booth thanked her profusely, quickly grabbing his gun and badge before kissing all the kids as he left, his phone still pressed to his ear. He called in a couple more favors, and two agents and a number of police officers met him outside the bar when he arrived there. It was not long before they discovered Brennan's car, the doors still unlocked and the keys on the ground. Booth swallowed hard, ignoring the bile which rose in his throat. Immediately, he began barking orders, instructing the others to fan out and search the area for any sign of her. He himself glanced briefly around, noticing with some relief that there did not appear to be any blood. Of course, that did not change the fact that Bones, the love of his life and the woman carrying his child, was currently missing.

Leaving the others to search the area, he returned to the bar, asking questions of the bartender and the patrons. Few of them remembered Brennan and Angela, and Booth left the bar more frustrated than he had been upon entering it. Leaving instructions with Charlie to call him if anyone found anything, he drove to the lab, finding all the squints already there. They all looked up at him when they heard him enter, none of them daring to speak. In truth, no one knew what to say; sure, they had faced similar situations. Brennan, Booth, and even Hodgins had been kidnapped before, and they had found them every time. But that did not stop the fear which gnawed at their insides each time one of them went missing or the what ifs that ran through their minds as they considered the possible outcomes of the situation.

It was Angela who first broke the silence, approaching Booth from the platform. Her eyes were red and blotchy, and tear tracts still ran down her cheeks. Her hair was rumpled, her clothes wrinkled, and her make up smeared, but Booth knew she did not care for any of those things at the moment. No, all she cared about was the fact that her best friend was missing. "There was a man at the bar who was hitting on Bren," Angela announced, her voice wavering slightly. "I never got a name, but I drew him. I'm running him through facial recognition software now." She turned over her sketchpad, allowing Booth to see the drawing of Mr. Tall-Dark-and-Handsome who now seemed much more sinister to Angela.

Booth shook his head. "I don't know him. Can you get a copy of this to me? I'll send an agent over to check with people at the bar, see if I can get a name." Angela nodded, already moving away.

"What do you want us to do?" Hodgins asked from the platform.

"Just keep processing evidence," Booth told him. "Agent Treesdale here will take you to the crime scene so you can see if you can find anything that the FBI techs missed. I want everything checked and double-checked. There has to be a clue there somewhere, and I want you guys to find it." They nodded, all moving to work, and Booth ran a hand through his hair in frustration, trying not to imagine what Brennan might be going through. He would find her, no question about it. There simply was not another option.

They were lucky with the picture that Angela drew; one of the patrons at the bar recognized the man and was able to provide a name. And so, at just after midnight, Booth strode purposefully into the interrogation room to face an extremely irritated realtor whose name, Booth had discovered, was Keith Johnson. Booth wasted no time with formalities, knowing that every minute was important. "You were at Billy's tonight," he began. It was not a question, but Keith spoke anyway.

"I was. I didn't know that was a crime."

"Did you see this woman?" Booth slid a picture of Brennan across the table.

Keith looked at the picture, and a grin spread across his face. "Oh yeah, I saw her alright. Tried to buy her a drink, maybe get her name, you know, but she would have nothing to do with me. Why? Is she saying I harassed her or something? Because I swear, as soon as I figured out she wasn't interested, I left."

"She's missing."

"Missing? But I just saw her maybe three hours ago or so."

"Do you have any idea where she might be?"

"No. Like I told you, I left her alone once I figured out she wasn't interested. She was with some other woman. Maybe you should ask her."

"She doesn't know either. She did say, however, that your advances were more forceful than you're making them out to be."

"Look, I asked her if she wanted a drink, she said no. I tried to talk with her a little bit, but she ignored me, talked with her friend for a little while. When she finished her drink, I asked again if I could get her something, but she said no again. I waited a little longer, thinking she might warm up to me, but she was ignoring me, so I left."

"And you didn't try to talk to her again?"

"No. It doesn't happen often, but I know when a woman isn't interested, and she wasn't interested. Why all the questions anyway? You don't think I have something to do with the fact that she's missing, do you?"

"Actually, Mr. Johnson, that's exactly what I think."

"Look, man, I was at the bar until about an hour ago. Ask anyone there." Booth watched him carefully as he spoke, realizing quickly that he was most likely telling the truth. The guy might have flirted with Brennan, but he had nothing to do with her disappearance.

Brennan awoke to find herself on a cold, unyielding surface with a faint metallic taste in the back of her mouth. Her hands and feet were immobilized, and she realized quickly that this condition arose because they were bound together. She tried to swallow, and a sudden wave of nausea rose up. Rolling to the side, she emptied the contents of her stomach onto the floor beside her, coughing and shaking. When she had finished, she rolled away, pulling herself up into a sitting position. Her head swam for a minute, and she thought she was going to be sick again, but the feeling passed.

As the nausea subsided, Brennan looked around at her surroundings. She seemed to be in a small, dungeon-like room with cement floors and no windows. The area smelled strongly of urine and dogs, and she had a moment of panic as she remembered the last time she had been captured and smelled that particular odor. But she fortunately did not hear any dogs barking, so she doubted that there were any around. Perhaps she had mistook another odor for that of dogs; after all, Zac was the one with the highly developed olfactory sense. The room where she sat was dark, but the walls were close enough on all sides that she could see them. Though three were cement, the fourth appeared to be some sort of wire mesh like a cage or something similar with a gate set into it. Before she could move toward it, however, the gate swung open, and a dark figure entered.

"Awake, I see," he remarked. His voice was cold, lifeless, and though Brennan would discount the feeling later as a draft, she felt a chill travel through her. The man approached, crouching down beside her, far enough away that she could not try to incapacitate him. She still could not make out his features clearly in the dim light; in fact, his face seemed to be shifting, changing even as she watched him. Logically, she knew it was simply shadows which gave his face the appearance of changing, but she could not stop the goosebumps from rising on her arms.

"Well, that just means it's time for fun." And with a wide grin that Brennan could make out even in the dim light, he stood, bringing his leg back. She knew what was coming even before he swung the foot, and fear coursed through her. She tried to move away from him, but the space was small, and he was much quicker without the bonds to contend with. Backing her into a corner, he brought his foot back again. "Oh, yes, I'm going to enjoy this very much," he remarked, his foot swinging forward and connecting solidly with her torso. _Rib number six_, Brennan thought to herself, attempting to keep her mind off the stinging pain. His foot struck again, this time on rib seven. Neither blow was hard enough to break her bones yet, but Brennan knew those blows would come. He pulled his leg back again, aiming lower this time.

"I'm pregnant," Brennan said quickly. "Please, don't hurt my baby."

The man smiled wider at this. "Oh no, we wouldn't want to do that," he told her.

Keith's alibi checked out as Booth had suspected it would. The man did not seem like the type to kidnap someone. He was simply another man who had fallen victim to Brennan's beauty, Booth sighed in frustration before asking another agent to let Keith go and returning to his office. He wanted to punch something or, better yet, shoot something. He briefly considered going to the shooting range to blow off some steam, but he could not do that, not when Bones was missing. He needed to devote his time to finding her and bringing her home safely. Her and their baby.

Unable to stay in his office any longer, Booth left, making his way down to the basement where he knew the FBI techs were working on Brennan's car, trying to amass any evidence they could. One of his friends was running the operation; when he walked in, a single look at his friend's face told him all he needed to know. "Sorry, Booth, but there's nothing here. In all likelihood, your guy never touched the car and neither did Dr. Brennan. We checked the area immediately surrounding the car, too, and found nothing though I guess that's to be expected. The wind would likely have removed most trace evidence by now.

"So you can't give me anything at all?"

"Sorry, Booth."

"Dan, you know this is important to me."

"I know. And we're trying, but we can only work with what we have."

Booth nodded, already turning to leave, his hand making its way into his hair for what had to be at least the hundredth time that night. He returned to the Jeffersonian to find Hodgins and Cam were still at the crime scene and Angela was sitting in her office, staring at the screen of her computer. "Come on, Angela," Booth instructed, grabbing her arm and pulling her up.

"Where are we going?" Angela inquired.

"We're going to interview people around the area where we found her car."

"Why do you need me to come?"

"So that if anyone saw anybody, you can draw that person."

"That's not the only reason."

"Also because you're going to go stir crazy just sitting her at your computer screen. Now, come on, let's go."

Unfortunately, they turned up nothing. No one had seen or heard anything, and Cam and Hodgins were unable to find any trace evidence. At 6:30, Booth finally forced himself to go home, knowing he needed to take care of the kids. As much as he wanted to find Brennan, he could not shirk his other responsibilities. He knew the kids were likely confused and frightened, and he also knew that he needed to explain the basic details of what was happening to them because not knowing was often worse than knowing. And so he went home and helped them prepare for school before giving a watered-down account of what had happened and taking them to school. Once they were where they needed to be, he returned to the lab.

Unfortunately, they had found nothing new. Booth began to pace around the lab, growing increasingly more agitated with each passing second. He had no leads to follow, no suspects to interview, no hunches to pursue. Just as he was beginning to think he might go crazy with worry, a voice behind him called, "Agent Booth?"

"Yeah?" Booth spun on his heel to see a woman in her mid-twenties standing in the doorway to the lab, her blond hair pulled into a neat ponytail. Booth had seen her a few times before; she sometimes worked at the desk in the front of the Jeffersonian.

"I've got something for you," she told him, holding out a white envelope. Feeling an odd sense of déjà vu, he took the envelope from her hands, tearing it open quickly. Again, a single note card fell out. Turning it over, Booth once more found a single phrase using words cut out from a newspaper. "I warned you," he read.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 6

Brennan lost track of how long she spent lying on the floor as her captor's leg connected with her body over and over again. Eventually, he seemed to grow tired of kicking her, and he knelt down beside her, using his fist to continue pummeling her body. She noticed that after her announcement, he did avoid her stomach as he continued his attack, but that did not stop him from smashing his fist into her face until she tasted blood and felt the warm, sticky substance coating her cheeks. She was having some difficulty drawing her breath, and her left arm felt as if it were on fire. She did not think it was broken, but she imagined that she would have a fairly large bruise there after the experience.

Eventually, the man left, and Brennan lay motionless on the floor trying to catalogue her injuries. She had a broken rib though she could not ascertain which one it was, and her nose was likely also broken. She knew lacerations covered her face and arms where he had hit her; he was wearing some type of ring which had cut into her skin when he had punched her. Bruises likely covered most of her body. But she was alive. And for now, she had to be grateful for that.

As soon as Booth read the message, he called Hodgins over, telling him to see if he could figure out where it came from. Hodgins agreed immediately, and Booth called Charlie to have the other note sent over, too. The FBI techs were good, but Booth had learned over the years that the Squints were better. If there was something to find, they would find it.

Now that he realized that Brennan's disappearance was related to their current case, he moved toward Angela's office, intending to retrieve the Missing Persons files for the other victims, hoping to find something in them that he had missed previously. Before he moved very far, however, his phone rang. "Hello?" he questioned, answering.

"Good morning, Agent Booth," a low voice remarked. "Did you get my message?"

Booth saw red. "You son of a bitch, if you lay a hand on her, I'm going to make sure that you never see the light of day again," Booth yelled. The attention of all the others turned to him suddenly, and he motioned them over, putting his phone on speaker as he signaled a nearby agent to trace the call. Immediately, the agent pulled out his own phone, already dialing.

"Careful, Agent Booth, you don't want to make me mad or I might do something we'll both regret. You don't want to be responsible for the death of your girlfriend or your unborn child, do you?" he questioned. Booth sensed the eyes of the others turning to him with this revelation, but he ignored them.

"Look, you bastard, we're going to find you, and then you're going to wish you never touched her," Booth growled. The man laughed, a low, guttural sound that would have chilled Booth's blood had it not already been boiling with hatred.

"You're not really in the position to be making those threats, Agent Booth. Right now, I hold all the cards, so you might want to do as I say."

"Let's say I do back off. What's in it for me?" Booth questioned, his voice still a low growl as he barely contained his temper.

"I'll go easy on her and your baby," the man offered.

"You son of a bitch, I'm going-"

"Goodbye, Agent Booth," the man said, hanging up before Booth could finish the threat. Booth immediately turned to the agent who had called in the trace. He shook his head, and Booth let out a loud growl of frustration as he hurled his phone across the room. It slammed into a wall, the battery casing popping off and sliding across the room. He looked around at the Squints who were all still standing near him, staring at him curiously.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" he roared. "Get to work!" Angela, Hodgins, and Mr. Nigel-Murray immediately scurried off to do as he asked, but Cam remained.

"Seeley," she began, reaching for him.

"I don't want to hear it, Cam," he told her.

"Look, Seeley, I know it's hard. But just remember that we all want to find Brennan."

"No offense, Cam, but you really don't know." And with that, he shook her off, turning to find that another agent had joined them. "What?" he barked.

"I was told to bring this over," the agent said, his eyes shifting nervously as he held out an evidence bag with the first note. Booth snatched it from his hands, starting toward the platform where Hodgins was analyzing the second note. Before he reached it, however, he had another idea, and he turned abruptly, making his way instead toward Angela's office.

"Angela, I need you to do something," he said, entering her office.

"Sure. Anything."

"Can you figure out what paper this came from?" he questioned, holding out the note card. Angela glanced at it for a few seconds before nodding.

"If I can detach the pieces of the newspaper without ruining them, I might be able to figure out what paper they came from based on the words on the back."

"Good. Do that. Hodgins has the second one if you need it."

"Okay." They stood for a moment in silence. "We'll find her, Booth," Angela finally remarked. "She's strong; you know she'll hang in there. And she trusts you. She knows you'll find her, and she's not going to give up." Booth nodded shortly before leaving the room, moving toward the platform.

"I couldn't get anything off the letter, Booth," Hodgins announced. "No DNA or fingerprints except yours and the secretary's."

"Take it to Angela. She's going to try to figure out which paper it came from."

"Okay. Also, there were a few fibers in the necks of the victims. I analyzed them and determined they were from dyed rayon."

"Some kind of rope?" Booth guessed.

"No, the bruising Cam discovered on the tissue indicates that whatever it was was likely wide and thin," Mr. Nigel-Murray remarked from behind them.

"So what was it?"

"I'm not entirely certain. I've also discovered some unusual marks on the bones here." He brought a magnifying glass over the area, and Booth gave the marks a cursory glance before turning to Mr. Nigel-Murray for an explanation. "These marks were made by something curved on one side and the top and straight on the other." He drew a picture on a nearby piece of paper, and Booth studied it for a moment.

"It looks like a hook or something," Hodgins suggested.

"It's possible. But whatever it was, the killer would have had to slam it into the bones with a pretty significant force to make these marks. There's no way someone could do this by simply pushing something into the bone."

Booth was silent for a minute, his hand on his chin, thinking hard. Suddenly, he recalled something that Hodgins had discovered previously. "What if whatever made the mark was attached to whatever was used to strangle her?" he questioned. "If that thing were swung at her, could it make these marks?"

Mr. Nigel-Murray considered for a moment. "If the object was about three or four feet long, then yes, it should generate enough force to make this damage."

"Are you thinking a whip or something?" Hodgins queried.

Booth shook his head. "It was a leash."

"A leash? Like a dog leash?"

"Yes. You said you found dog urine on the jewelry. If our guy owns a dog, it would make sense for him to also own a leash." Booth felt a sinking feeling in his stomach, vividly recalling the last encounter he had had with a kidnapper who owned dogs.

Brennan was still lying in the corner of her small prison attempting to work her hands out of the ropes which bound them. She had managed to rub her wrists raw in her attempts to escape, but she ignored the sticky blood on her hands and continued to work, taking advantage of the slick liquid as she struggled to slip out of the bonds. After a good deal of work, she managed to free one hand, and she quickly shook off the rope before starting to work on the rope around her feet.

It did not take long before she was completely free of her bonds, and she immediately stood, pausing a second as a wave of dizziness washed over her. When her head had cleared, she began to explore the small area, searching for anything which could be used as a weapon. Unfortunately, she had only just started to move when she heard the unmistakable sounds of someone moving toward her. Immediately, she returned to the corner, sitting down with her hands behind her and her legs bent backwards under her, hoping that she might be able to overcome her captor if she had the element of surprise on her side.

The door opened, and his eyes traveled immediately to her in the corner. With a frightening grin, he started toward her. In two strides, he was directly in front of Brennan, and it was then that she struck. She jumped to her feet as quickly as possible, ignoring the spots which swam in front of her vision as she brought her hand around, fingers curled tightly, to connect with the side of his head. She heard him grunt in surprise, but she was already moving, her foot stomping on his instep before her knee came up to connect painfully with his groin. While he was bent over in pain, she delivered a sharp blow to his back before moving quickly around him toward the door. Before she could reach it, however, she felt a hand grab her shoulder. She spun, intending to incapacitate him once more, but he was quicker than she had anticipated. Before she could completely comprehend what was happening, he had grabbed her with both his hands, throwing her against the concrete wall. Her head slammed against it, leaving her dazed but somehow still conscious, and she collapsed to the floor, momentarily stunned.

Before she could rise to her feet again, he was hovering over her, his appearance even more sinister with blood dripping from his mouth where he had likely bit his cheek when she had punched him. "A feisty one, I see," he remarked, his smile widening. His teeth were stained red with blood. "I knew you'd be fun, but I never imagined how much fun you could be." He knelt in front of her, and even in the dim light, Brennan saw the glint of silver as he removed a knife from a sheath on his belt. Whimpering slightly, she began to struggle to stand and move away from the weapon. With a laugh, he brought his free hand to her chest, pushing her back so that she was lying on the cool concrete floor. Brennan struggled, but he was heavier than her, and he had moved so that his entire weight was pressing her into the floor.

With wide eyes, she watched as he brought the knife closer to her, letting the flat part of the blade touch the skin of her neck. The feel of the cool metal caused her to jerk slightly, and he let out another laugh. Carefully, he drew the knife to the right, letting it trail down her arm before beginning the journey back up and to the other side. When he reached her hand, he tilted the knife forward, allowing the tip to dig into her skin slightly, just enough to let her feel the pain and to draw a small amount of blood. Brennan felt the warm liquid pool on the palm of her hand before beginning to slowly slide down, joining the blood which still coated her wrists from her attempts to escape.

The knife suddenly left her skin, but her relief was short-lived, for his finger soon replaced it, tracing over her skin and sending cold chills down her spine. She was well aware of where he was headed, and she redoubled her struggling in an attempt to escape, but he was simply too strong and she already somewhat weakened from loss of blood and her previous injuries. His finger traced down her side, reaching the hem of her shirt. He played with it for a minute before dropping it again. Leaning over, he brought his lips to her ear. "The anticipation's killing me," he whispered.

Without warning, Brennan brought her head forward, colliding forcefully with his head. She felt pain shoot through her, but she ignored it, using his momentary daze to push upward with all her strength, forcing his body off hers. With a growl, he grabbed her ankle before she could run, and she fell to the floor again. He was on top of her before she could react, reaching behind her to retrieve the ropes. She felt him loop them around her wrists, pulling them tight against her skin. Pain shot through her arms as the ropes dug into the already raw skin of her wrist. Once she was tied again, he stood, reaching behind him to retrieve something. It glinted slightly in the dim light, and for a moment, Brennan thought he had pulled out the knife again. As he raised the object above his head, however, she realized it was not the knife. With a shout of rage, he swung his arm forward, and the object swung out, the metal clasp at the end colliding painfully with her side. She let out an involuntary moan as her body curled up, trying to shield itself from the next hit.

Booth interviewed the secretary but learned nothing more about the man who had given her the letter. Thoroughly frustrated, he returned to the lab, and the figure he saw just inside the glass walls of the lab did nothing to decrease his frustration. Booth's eyes narrowed in on his target as his strides grew more purposeful. In no time at all, he had moved through the glass doors into the lab, his eyes still set on Sully who stood in front of him, looking completely relaxed and carefree. He seemed to sense Booth's presence, for he turned, and a wide smile broke out. "Booth, hey, I just came by to see Tempe, thought maybe she-"

Sully never had a chance to finish his sentence, for Booth's fist suddenly connected painfully with his nose. Sully's hands flew to his face as blood flowed beneath his fingers, but Booth was not through with him yet. With a roar of rage, Booth pulled his arm back again, intending to show Sully just what happened when he messed with Brennan, but another hand held him back. "He's not worth it, Seeley," Cam said firmly, her hand gripping his arm.

"He kissed Bones," Booth hissed through clenched teeth.

"Hitting him is not going to change that," Cam told him. "All it's going to do is get you in trouble. And right now, you can't focus on that. You need to worry about finding Dr. Brennan." Booth's eyes met hers, and he took a deep breath before nodding. As he started back toward the central platform, Cam turned to Sully and tossed him a roll of paper towels. "Clean yourself up and get out of here," she instructed. "I don't want you bleeding all over my lab."

"I always thought you liked me, Cam," Sully remarked, his words muffled due to the flow of blood from his nose. Taking a couple paper towels, he held them firmly under his nose, tilting his head forward. "Geez, I think he broke it."

"You should have known he would if you started messing with Brennan."

"Yeah, but I really couldn't help myself. I honestly did come to apologize though."

"Now's not the best time. Come back some other time, and he might be more receptive. Of course, I can't guarantee that."

"What's going on anyway?"

"Brennan's missing."

"What? How?"

"She was taken last night."

"Well, that explains why Booth looks like shit. Can I help?"

"There's nothing for you to help with, Sully. Go home and let us do our jobs." Of course, Sully did not listen. He followed Cam further into the lab, still holding paper towels tightly against his nose. Fortunately, Booth did not see him or he likely would have ended up with much more than a broken nose.

"I've got an identity for your newspaper," Angela announced as Booth approached. "Whoa, what happened to your hand?" Booth glanced down at his hand as if just noticing it for the first time. His knuckles were bleeding, and he noticed slight swelling in his index finger.

"Nothing. What did you find?"

"It was the _Northern Virginia Daily,_" Angela informed him. "Which is lucky for us because it has a fairly small circulation. Well, comparatively at least. About 67,000 households. I got a map of its circulation." Angela held up a map of Virginia with part of the northern area colored in red.

Booth glanced quickly at it. "With Hodgins' bug, we can narrow it down to here," he remembered, circling a small area near the coast. With a frustrated sigh, he shook his head. "Dammit, that's still too large of an area. It'll take us forever to check."

"I think I can help with that," Hodgins announced from behind them. "There were some hairs on the bodies. They weren't human, so I took a closer look and realized that they belonged to dogs."

Booth had to stop himself from strangling the scientist. "We know he has a dog, Hodgins. That still doesn't help."

"No, you misunderstand. These hairs don't just come from one dog. There are hairs from at least a dozen different breeds here, maybe more."

"So he owns a lot of dogs?"

"I'm not sure if he owns them. I was trying to think of where he might keep the women for long periods of time, and I realized it would likely be some sort of abandoned building. The dog hairs indicate that it might have once been a kennel or something similar." Booth's eyes suddenly grew wide.

"You know, Hodgins, I may have underestimated you."

"I'll run a search for all old kennels in the area," Hodgins said, his voice growing more excited as he took a seat in front of the computer. Booth stood over his shoulder, watching impatiently as the computer searched. In a few seconds, a map appeared with three yellow dots. "Three possibilities, but this one is the most likely," Hodgins said, pulling up the information for one of the locations. Booth read the address, committing it to memory before turning to leave, already dialing for back up.

"Send those other addresses to me," he called back to Hodgins as he left.

After her captor had left her for the second time, Brennan remained still for a few minutes, trying to retain consciousness. She could no longer accurately catalogue all her injuries; blood poured from numerous points on her body, and she felt as if she had contusions over every inch of her skin. The pain was almost unbearable, but she forced herself to ignore it, focusing instead on what she was going to do when Booth found her. Because she had no doubt that Booth would find her. Hodgins had told her it was faith, but she liked to believe that it was a reasonable conclusion based on past experience. Booth had never failed her before, and he would not fail her now.

And so she focused on Booth, on the feel of his strong arms and warm lips, on the deep cadence of his voice which always seemed to soothe her, and on his warm brown eyes that she often found mesmerizing. Thoughts of Booth brought up thoughts of the kids, of Kristen's basketball game the previous weekend when she had scored eight points, of Parker's ability to now recite every bone in the human body. Her hand automatically fell to her stomach as her thoughts turned to the life growing inside her now. She and Booth had scheduled an ultrasound for the following week, an appointment Booth was greatly looking forward to. And if Brennan were being honest with herself, she would have to admit that she was looking forward to it, too. Though she knew that she was pregnant, knew that she was carrying a baby, seeing the ultrasound for the first time would simply confirm that fact, provide visible evidence of the life inside her.

The gate opened again, but she did not look to it. She sensed his presence over her, and his hands were suddenly on her, pulling her roughly onto her back. She closed her eyes, the bonds so tight on her wrists now that she could not move her arms at all without them digging into her skin. Her body ached all over, and she felt pain shoot down her arm as his hands pressed against a bruise on her shoulder. She tried to kick her legs upward, to push him off her, but her movements were weak and ineffective. He seemed to take some form of sick joy in her efforts to escape, and she heard a low laugh escape him as his hands grasped both sides of her blouse and pulled it apart, sending buttons flying to all sides.

His hands traveled all over her upper body, roughly pushing her bra aside. She bit her lip and tried to swallow the bile that rose in her throat at his touch. As his hands traveled lower, unbuttoning her pants, she squeezed her eyes tighter, hoping that if she could not see him, he would disappear. It was irrational, she knew; it really did not matter if she could see him or not—people could not simply disappear.

As her pants were pushed away, exposing the flesh of her legs to the cool air of the room, she heard muffled noises from somewhere far away. For a moment, she thought she was imagining the sounds, but they were growing louder, and her captor's movements above her ceased. She heard shouting and a loud crash followed closely by a familiar voice shouting, "Get off of her!" Her captor laughed, and she caught another flash of light as he once more unsheathed the knife. The loud rapport of a gun echoed around the small area, and the man collapsed, half of his weight on her torso and half on the ground. Before she could fully comprehend what was happening, the weight was suddenly removed from her body and she felt a pair of strong arms wrap around her body.

His familiar scent immediately overwhelmed her, and she opened her eyes to see him crouching next to her, pulling her body against his. His hair was out of place, his clothes were dirty and wrinkled, and dark circles surrounded his eyes, indicating that he had not slept well recently, but in that moment, he was the most beautiful thing Brennan had ever seen. His fingers made quick work of the bonds around her wrist, and as soon as her arms were free, she flung them around his neck, hanging on as tightly as possible. "I've got you, Bones," he soothed, his voice warm and comforting and familiar in her ear. "I'm right here. I've got you." There was a good deal of activity around them as the other agents dealt with her captor, but the two partners ignored everyone else as they clung to each other, each one taking strength from the other as they had done so many times before. "I've got you, Baby," Booth repeated, the term of endearment slipping easily from his mouth. For once, Brennan did not object to it. "I'm right here, Sweetheart. Right here." He pressed his lips to her hair, and she finally allowed the tears to fall. She knew she was safe.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 7

Later, Brennan was sitting up in the hospital bed, her hand clasped tightly in Booth's. He had not left her side since finding her in the kennel, staying with her throughout the ambulance ride and then remaining by her side in the hospital as they had treated her injuries. When the doctor had suggested a rape kit, his grip on her hand had tightened, and she saw his jaw working fiercely in frustration. Brennan had initially wanted to refuse the test, claiming that she knew she was not raped, but she realized that she actually could not be completely sure of that fact. She had been unconscious for awhile, and anything could have happened during that period. And so she consented to the test which fortunately came up negative. Brennan inquired about the baby, and the doctor assured her that the baby was fine, offering to complete an ultrasound later if it would ease their fears. Booth and Brennan agreed to his suggestion, and he made a note in his chart before leaving. Once all the nurses had also left, Booth sunk into a chair beside her, taking her hand and bringing it to his lips. "God, Bones, you really need to stop getting yourself kidnapped like that," he remarked. "I'm not sure how many more scares like that I can take." He squeezed her hand lightly and kissed it again.

"I'm okay, Booth," she reminded him.

"I know. I just think about how it could've ended. . ."

"Did you ever figure out the identity of my captor?"

"Neil Kinsley," Booth told her. "Father left when he was a baby, raised by a single mother who happened to be a state senator."

"A powerful woman."

"Yes. Seems he had mommy issues."

"Did you question him?"

"He's dead." Booth's eyes fell to their clasped hands.

"You killed him." He nodded.

"I had to, Bones, he had a knife. He was going to hurt you."

"You did the right thing, Booth." It was her turn to squeeze his hand now.

"I know, Bones. People like that shouldn't be out on the streets. But that doesn't make it any easier." His eyes met hers, and he held her gaze for a few moments until their concentration was broken by a voice behind them.

"There are some people here who want to see you," Angela announced.

"Mom!" Kristen shouted, running forward, Parker following close behind.

"We missed you, Dr. Bones," Parker added. They both climbed onto the bed.

"Careful, Bones is hurt. You need to be gentle," Booth reminded them. Obediently, they stilled beside her. Kristen reached out her arms cautiously.

"Can I hug you?" she questioned.

"Of course." Brennan opened her arms, wrapping them lightly around Kristen's body as the small girl returned the hug. Parker hugged her next before both kids settled on the bed next to her, already eagerly explaining what had happened that day. As Brennan listened to them, Booth looked back at Angela who held Noah's carrier, the baby's bag slung over her shoulder.

"Thanks, Angela," Booth told her, smiling at their friend. Standing, he reached out and took both the carrier and bag from her. Seeing that Noah was awake, Booth set the carrier on the ground and took the baby from it, raising Noah over his head, eliciting a gurgle from the infant as he pressed a raspberry to his stomach.

"Cam, Hodgins, and Sweets are all out there," Angela told them. "They're all eager to see you if you're up to it." Brennan looked over at her friend.

"It would be nice to see them," she said. Angela smiled.

"I'll go get them." As Angela left, Booth took his seat beside Brennan's bed again, still cradling Noah in one arm as he entangled the fingers of his other hand with Brennan's. Kristen and Parker were still talking excitedly, and he listened to their chatter as he ran his finger over Brennan's hand.

The door opened again, and Cam, Hodgins, Angela, and Sweets poured in, all exclaiming over how glad they were to have Brennan back safe and sound. The noise eventually died down, and Cam spoke up. "So, I think you have some good news for all of us," Cam remarked, looking pointedly between the two partners.

Brennan looked at Booth curiously. "They found out," he said simply, not particularly keen on explaining exactly how they found out, for it dredged up too many unpleasant memories for him.

"Oh. Well, I suppose I will be needing some time off in about five months," Brennan told Cam. Angela let out a muted squeal from the back of the room.

"I'm sorry, I'm completely lost here," Sweets said, confusion etched onto his face.

"Dr. B and Booth are having a baby," Hodgins explained.

"Really?" Sweets turned back to the two partners who both nodded. Booth wore a smile so wide that it split his face in half; Brennan's smile was smaller, but Sweets could clearly see the happiness in her eyes. "Well, this is certainly a new development. We'll have to talk about how this will affect your partnership."

"We're already raising three kids together, Sweets. A fourth won't change anything."

"Of course it will. This is your baby, your flesh and blood. It's-"

"Well, that'll give us something to talk about in our next session," Booth interrupted.

"So the baby's okay, right?" Angela inquired.

"The doctor assures us it's fine. They're going to do an ultrasound later to be sure."

"How far along?" Cam queried.

"Three months."

"Three months? Wow."

"Oh, that kid is going to be so adorable!" Angela exclaimed. As the group continued to talk about the baby, Booth turned to Brennan, and their eyes met. His hand squeezed hers, and his eyes twinkled brightly. Brennan tilted her head slightly to the right, and she looked so beautiful in that moment despite the bruises and bandages on her face that Booth could not help himself. Leaning forward, he pressed his lips to hers, letting the emotions from the past day loose as he kissed her.

The room fell silent around them as all eyes suddenly focused on the two partners. Of the people in the room, only Angela, Parker, and Kristen had seen them kiss, for they always kept it professional at work. When Booth pulled away and noticed that all the attention in the room was on them, the back of his ears burned slightly. "What?" he asked, trying to hide his discomfort.

"Nothing, Dude," Hodgins said. "I guess it's just weird to see you kissing Dr. B."

"But that was pretty hot," Sweets added. Booth glared at him, and he cleared his throat nervously. "I mean, it's interesting to see this other aspect of your relationship. It's not something I'm often privy to."

"And for good reason," Booth said. A nurse walked into the room at that moment and glanced at the multitude of people in the small space.

"I'm looking for a Temperance Brennan to go to Imaging," she announced.

"That was quick," Brennan whispered to Booth as she held her arm out for the nurse to check the name band that circled it. Booth shrugged.

"We'll leave you two alone to see your baby," Angela announced. "And I'll take these three off your hands for a little while. Come on, Parker, Kristen." The kids complained a bit but still clambered out of the bed and over to Angela. She took Noah from Booth, and Cam grabbed the carrier and bag as they all filed out of the room, leaving Brennan and Booth alone with the nurse.

An hour later, Booth joined the others in the waiting room holding a black and white picture. He appeared to be in a daze. Angela stood as he approached, her eyebrows raised in question. "Spill," she instructed. "How is he or she?"

"_They're_ fine," Booth answered, emphasizing the first word. His eyes looked to be glazed over, not focusing on anyone in the room.

"They?" Cam asked. "As in more than one?"

Booth nodded. "Twins." Cam's jaw hit the ground, and Hodgins and Sweets appeared to be in a similar state. Angela let out an ear-piercing squeal as she threw her arms around Booth who was still too shocked to do anything other than stand still, staring straight ahead.

"How did Bren take it?" Angela questioned.

"Same way as she takes everything. She started estimating how many diapers we would have to buy and discussing the probability that they would be identical versus fraternal." He shook his head.

"How are you taking it?" Sweets questioned.

"Honestly, I'm still in shock. I mean, I was ready for one baby. Don't get me wrong; I'm thrilled that we're having two. I just can't help but think that this is all happening so quickly. I mean, two babies are a lot of work."

"But you have all us to help," Angela reminded him.

"I know, Angela. And I'm grateful for that."

"So you have a picture?" Angela inquired.

"Oh, yeah, here." Booth held out the picture, pointing out the features of the two babies that the technician had earlier shown him. As he spoke, a smile settled over his face. These were his babies. Part of him and part of Brennan. He could not imagine anything better.

The next week passed quickly for the partners. Brennan spent a night in the hospital for observation before being discharged. Booth had shared the good news about the babies with Kristen and Parker who both took it surprisingly well. They both already knew she was pregnant, and it took them a short time to grasp that she would be having two babies, but when they finally realized this, they were both fine with it. Booth let out a sigh of relief; he knew that jealousy would likely rear its ugly head later, but he was content to deal with that problem when it occurred.

The Saturday after Brennan was released from the hospital, Booth decided that it was time to put up Christmas decorations. They had been so busy over the past couple weeks that he had not even had a chance to pull the boxes out of storage. And so after his workout Saturday morning, he made pancakes for breakfast before taking Parker and Kristen with him to retrieve the boxes of decorations from the small storage locker that he rented. Brennan stayed behind to watch Noah and spent the time tidying the apartment, picking up the toys that were strewn everywhere.

A knock at the door caused her to look up from her dusting, and she set the rag aside as she went to answer it. "Dad?" she questioned as she opened the door to find her father standing in her hallway, a smile on his face. Her father had been helping Russ and Amy fix up a new house for themselves for the past three months, so she had not seen him in some time.

"Hi, Sweetheart," he greeted. The smile slipped from his face as he took in her appearance. Although she had started to heal, she still sported two impressive black eyes along with a number of cuts and bruises that were visible despite the jeans and sweater that she wore. "What happened?" he inquired, his voice suddenly harsh. "Who did this to you?" He cupped her chin in his hand, turning her head to the side so that he could see her injuries. "I swear, if this is some guy you're dating, I'm going to make sure that he never comes near you again."

"It's not someone I'm dating, Dad," Brennan told him. "I was kidnapped."

"What? Who?"

"He's dead now, Dad. Booth shot him."

"Of course he did." Max studied her face for a few seconds more before releasing her chin. "Why didn't you call me? I could've helped."

"Booth had it under control, Dad."

"Obviously not." Max looked pointedly at her injuries.

"Look, Dad, even you couldn't have stopped this from happening."

"It was especially hard since I never got the chance to try."

"What are you doing here, Dad?"

"It's nice to see you, too, Tempe. Russ and Amy have moved in now, so I thought I'd come back to see my favorite daughter, maybe celebrate Christmas with her."

"You didn't want to celebrate with Russ?"

"We celebrated early. Besides, he has Amy and the girls."

"I have people to celebrate with, too, Dad."

"Do you have anything to eat? I'm starving."

"There are leftover pancakes from breakfast." She led him into the kitchen and pulled out the extra pancakes from the fridge, placing a few on the plate.

"Tempe?" Max asked from behind her. She turned to find him staring at one of Noah's bottles in the dish drainer. "I know a lot can change in three months, but that seems a little fast."

Brennan set the plate of pancakes aside and turned to her father. "Come on, Dad, there's someone you should meet." They walked together to her spare bedroom where she found Noah awake in his crib, his fist shoved in his mouth. His head was turned toward the doorway, and he studied the adults curiously. "This is Noah," Brennan introduced, lifting the baby out of the crib. "I'm fostering him and his older sister Kristen who's eight."

"Wow. And you never thought to call and tell me this?"

Brennan shrugged. "It was my decision, not yours."

"So where is his sister? Kristen, right?"

"Yes. She's with Booth and his son Parker. They're getting Christmas decorations." Max nodded, still processing all the information she had given him. "There's something else, Dad," Brennan continued, thinking she might as well come clean. "I'm pregnant. Three months along. Twins."

To say Max was surprised would be an understatement. His eyes grew wide and his mouth fell open as he stared at his daughter, trying to figure out if she was pulling his leg. But no, she did not kid. She was nearly always serious, and he knew this instance was no exception. "So, who do I have to beat up?" he finally queried.

"What?"

"I'm just wondering who got you pregnant so I'll know who to beat up."

"Why would you beat him up?"

"Because he got my baby pregnant."

"If you're going to beat him up, I'm not going to tell you who the father is."

"It's Booth, isn't it?"

"How do you know?"

"Because I know you. You were dead set against having a child. Booth is the only person who could ever change your mind."

"He didn't change my mind. I changed my own mind."

"Because you love him." Brennan looked at her father in surprise, and he simply smiled. "I've seen the way you look at him, Sweetheart. Trust me, I've known for awhile. And I know he loves you, too, which is why I'm not going to beat him up. I don't think anyone will ever be good enough for you, but if I had to choose someone, he would be my first choice. I'm happy for you."

"Hey, Bones, we're back!" Booth's voice called from the living room. Brennan and Max both left the bedroom and found him standing in front of her couch, a tall rectangular box beside him. Parker and Kristen stood behind him, both grasping one handle of a smaller box. "Oh, hi, Max," Booth greeted when he saw the older man. His eyes flicked to Brennan's, and she nodded, indicating that she had told her father everything. He turned back to Max who approached him.

"Congratulations, Booth. I trust that you'll take good care of her and my grandchildren," Max said, taking Booth's hand.

"Of course."

"You're a good man, Booth, and I appreciate everything you've done for my daughter. But just remember what I do to people who hurt her."

"I could never hurt her."

Max offered him a genuine smile. "I know. Now, Temperance tells me that you have some Christmas decorations."

"Yeah, there are more boxes in the car."

"Well, I'll help you bring them up then." With that, the two men left the room, talking and laughing with one another. Parker and Kristen trailed behind, leaving Brennan in the middle of the room holding Noah, wondering what had just happened.

Twenty minutes later, the floor of Brennan's living room had been covered in boxes. Booth pulled his knife from his pocket, cutting the tape which held the tree's box together. Instructing the kids to find the ornaments, he began to wrestle the tree together with help from Max. Brennan placed Noah in his bouncer and approached Parker and Kristen who were trying to retrieve a box from the top of a stack.

Once Booth and Max had the tree together, he left the older man trying to untangle the lights as he approached Brennan's stereo system. He had added his CD's to her collection a few weeks before when he had moved in, and he searched them now before pulling out the desired disk. Placing it in the CD player, he waited for a few seconds before the strains of "Let it Snow" began to echo around the room. He smiled at Brennan before rejoining Max who had managed to free about half of the string. Parker and Kristen were bouncing with excitement, eager to hang the lights so that they could begin decorating the tree. Booth chuckled at them and sent them to hang stockings while they waited. They had bought three new stockings the week before, one for Noah, one for Kristen, and one for Brennan which appropriately read Temperance on the top with "Bones" stitched underneath it by Angela.

As Max finished the lights, Chance ran out of Booth and Brennan's bedroom where he had taken to sleeping over the past few nights. His tripped over the string of lights which lay across the floor, his gangly puppy legs flying as he struggled to right himself. Unfortunately, his struggle was in vain, and he ended up sprawled out across the living room floor. Booth laughed loudly as he made his way unsteadily to his feet. "I should probably take him out," Booth decided, grabbing his leash.

"That was Chance," Brennan explained to her father who was staring at her curiously. "Kristen found him, and when we took her and Noah in, we took him, too."

"Three kids, two adults, and a dog in this apartment? That must be crowded."

"It is. Booth's fixing up a house though."

"Maybe I could help. I know a fair amount about fixing houses."

"You can ask Booth."

They spent an enjoyable morning decorating the tree. There was a short debate about who would place the star on top which was quickly resolved when Booth lifted both Kristen and Parker and allowed them to place it together. As he set them on the floor, he felt a twinge of pain in his back and winced slightly. Brennan, of course, noticed immediately. "Are you okay, Booth? You didn't throw out your back again, did you?" she questioned.

"No, I'm fine. It just hurts a little." To prove his point, he straightened, ignoring the stab of pain from the action. She looked doubtful, but she let it go.

After a quick lunch of sandwiches, Max declared that he had something he wanted to show the kids, and he shooed Booth and Brennan out of the kitchen. Booth was reluctant to leave, unsure of what Max had planned, but Parker and Kristen seemed excited, so he decided to let Max have his fun, reasoning that if he was just in the next room, they could not get into too much trouble. Booth and Brennan set to work putting up the few remaining decorations before starting to repack the boxes with all the packaging that the decorations had come in. Christmas music still played softly in the background, and as the song changed, Brennan began to sing along.

"City sidewalks, busy sidewalks/ Dressed in holiday style," she sang. "In the air/ There's a feeling/ of Christmas." Her voice was strong, and she slid smoothly from one pitch to the next. Booth looked at her in surprise, not because she could sing well; he knew that already. Rather, he was surprised that she knew the song; he knew that Brennan did not often celebrate Christmas.

"I didn't know you knew 'Silver Bells,' Bones," Booth remarked.

"It was my mom's favorite Christmas carol," Brennan explained before continuing the song. This time, Booth joined in, his deep voice combining with hers. Though he was not a great singer, the soothing cadence of his voice made his singing pleasant nevertheless. "Children laughing/ People passing/ Meeting smile after smile/ And on ever street corner you'll hear. . ."

They smiled at each other as they began the chorus, the repacking now forgotten. "Silver bells, silver bells/ It's Christmas time in the city/ Ring-a-ling, hear them sing/ Soon it will be Christmas day." Booth stood, offering a hand to Brennan who surprisingly took it and used it to pull herself up. Instead of letting go, however, he grasped her fingers tighter, pulling her to him as he wrapped his other arm around her. "Strings of street lights/ Even stop lights/ Blink a bright red and green/ As the shoppers/ Rush home with their treasures."

He spun her out, and she giggled—actually giggled—before spinning back to him, resting her head against his chest. Booth loved seeing her this carefree, loved the moments when she "put her heart into overdrive." Sure, he loved Dr. Brennan the world-renowned forensic anthropologist, but he also loved Tempe, the mother, daughter, and lover. "Hear the snow crunch/ See the kids bunch/ This is Santa's big scene/ And above all this bustle/ You'll hear," they continued, now revolving slowly around the living room floor, their bodies pressed tightly together. As the chorus started for the second time, Booth stepped back, accidentally treading on a piece of the plastic that had been wrapped around the tree. It slid from under him, and he lost his footing, falling unceremoniously onto the pile of boxes behind him. Since his arms were still wrapped around Brennan, she, too, toppled forward, and they landed in a heap, both laughing heartily.

They remained where they were as the song finished, and Booth brought his hands up to frame Brennan's face, pushing her hair back with the side of his hands. "I love you," he told her, his voice soft and gentle.

"I love you, too," she responded, leaning forward. Their lips met slowly at first though they soon began to press more insistently together as passion overcame the two partners. Booth rolled them over, shoving boxes aside as he lowered Brennan to the ground, keeping his lips pressed firmly to hers.

A loud cough broke them apart, and they turned to see Max watching them with a bemused expression on his face. Booth's face crimsoned, and he pushed himself quickly to his feet, offering a hand to Brennan who refused. "How long have you been standing there?" Booth queried.

"Long enough," Max replied enigmatically. "Parker and Kristen want to show you something." He smiled at them again before turning and leading them into the kitchen.

Max stayed for the rest of the afternoon, joining them for ice skating, an activity Parker and Kristen had been looking forward to all week. They had left Noah and Chance with Mrs. Mitchell before heading to the rink. Brennan discovered that her father was actually fairly adept at skating, and he took Kristen around the ice, helping her learn how to keep her footing as Parker skated around them like a pro. Booth remained with Brennan, his gloved hand in hers as they skated slowly to allow her to accustom herself to skating. She had been a few times before as a kid and once with Booth, but she was still not completely comfortable on the ice, and Booth was happy to give her time to adjust.

After skating, they returned home for dinner and then curled up in the living room to watch _Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer _and _Frosty the Snowman _with hot chocolate and popcorn (evidently, it was a tradition that Parker and Booth had started a couple years before, and they were happy to share it with the others). Once the kids were all in bed, Booth and Brennan returned to the living room where Max stood, his eyes scanning the pictures that Brennan had displayed in the room. A number of them showed her with Booth, most of those taken by Angela, though some also showed other members of the lab, and there were even a few of Parker, Kristen, and Noah. When he heard the partners enter the room again, Max turned to them. "I guess I should get going, find a hotel in the area," he remarked.

"You can stay here if you want, Dad," Brennan offered.

"This house is too crowded as it is without adding another person," Max said.

"It's really no problem, Max," Booth assured him. "The couch pulls out."

Max considered for a moment. "Well, if you're sure, I've got a suitcase in the car. I'll just go get that." As he left, Booth wrapped an arm around Brennan's shoulders, pulling her tight against his side.

"We still have some shopping to do," he reminded her. She groaned and buried her face in his shoulder, reveling in his comforting warmth. He smiled. "I was thinking we can ask your dad to watch the kids tomorrow after church, and you and I can finish up Christmas shopping."

"My father's a felon. You really want him watching your son?"

"Whatever he may have done, your father is a good man at heart. He was doing what he thought was right. I watched him with the kids today, and it's pretty obvious he considers them family. And you know how far he'll go to protect his family."

"Okay. We can ask him." She let her eyes slide shut, burrowing closer to him, and he laughed.

"Tired?" he questioned. She mumbled into his shoulder. Using the arm around her shoulder, he turned her so that she was standing in front of him, facing him, and he wrapped both his arms around her, pulling her against his body. He had noticed early on in their relationship how much more relaxed she became when tired and how she was often much more accepting of intimacy. In this instance, she tucked her head against his chest, her arms wrapping around his solid body as she leaned her weight onto him. He pressed a kiss into her hair as they stood there, neither willing to move. The front door of the apartment opened, and Max entered with a duffel bag slung over his shoulder. He raised his eyebrows when he saw the two partners.

"She tired?" Max inquired. Booth nodded, one of his hands coming up to play with the ends of her hair. Max watched them fondly. "She used to do that when she was little, too. She was a smart kid, always babbling on about the latest thing she had learned. Honestly, sometimes listening to her, you would swear she was a college graduate and not a little girl. One of the few times when she acted like the kid she was was when she was tired. She would always do just that—curl up against her mother or I. There was more than once when she fell asleep standing up."

"I think she's about there now," Booth said softly, his second hand moving to rub slow circles on her lower back. He kissed her hair again before lifting her carefully into his arms, carrying her to their bedroom. She stirred slightly but remained in her light doze as he placed her in the bed and removed her shoes, socks, and jeans, letting her sleep in her long-sleeved t-shirt and underwear. Pulling the sheet and blanket up to her chin, he pressed a kiss to her forehead before leaving the room, shutting the door quietly behind him.

Max was waiting for him in the living room when he returned. "After Christine died, I found Temperance again and kept tabs on her, made sure that no one would hurt her," Max admitted as Booth sat beside him. "I'd check on her every couple months or so, make sure she was still doing okay. I watched her go through a lot of relationships in that time. None of them lasted very long; she was too independent, never let anyone in. I guess that was mostly my fault."

He stopped speaking for a moment, and Booth felt compelled to offer, "Do you want a beer or something?" Max shook his head.

"No, thank you. Anyway, it didn't take me long to realize that she never really trusted anyone. Except for Angela, she had no close friends, no significant relationship. Until she met you. I've watched you two closely, Booth, and I know you're the first person Temperance has ever truly trusted. You're the first person she's opened her heart to."

"I know. And I'm forever grateful for that."

"That also means that you're the only person who can really hurt her, Booth."

"I know that, too. But I promise, I'm not going to do that."

Max sighed. "About three years ago, I stopped checking on her so often," he informed the agent. "I knew it wasn't necessary anymore. Someone else was watching her back. Someone she trusted a hell of a lot more than me." Max turned to look at him, his eyes meeting the younger man's eyes. "I hate having to share my baby girl, but I know that's part of growing up. And if I have to share her with someone, you're at the top of my list." He held out a hand. "Welcome to the family, Booth." Booth hesitated before taking his hand.

"You know we're not getting married, right?"

"I know that you aren't right now. But Temperance already changed her mind about having children because of you. I have no doubt that she'll eventually come around to the concept of marriage, too. Give it time, Booth."

Booth smiled slightly. "Everything happens eventually."


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 8

The following week, Brennan stood in the bedroom of her apartment, frowning at her appearance. She wore a floor length pale blue dress that hugged her figure nicely, but something just did not seem quite right. "You're starting to show," Booth remarked from behind her, his arms encircling her waist as he spoke directly into her ear. "Not much but some which I guess is only natural since there's two babies in there." His hands moved down to caress her stomach. She leaned back against him, enjoying the sensations his touch always created. They stood in silence for a few seconds before Booth's hands moved higher. "And these are larger, too," he growled into her ear, cupping her breasts as he nipped at the cartilage. She tilted her head back to rest against his shoulder, and his lips moved to her exposed neck. She moaned softly in pleasure as he pressed his lips to the skin there, sucking gently. After a minute or so, he pulled away. "As much as I want to, Bones, we have to get moving. Cam will have both our hides if we don't get there soon. Here." He moved his hands to her back, taking the zipper between his fingers and pulling it closed.

Brennan turned as he moved away from her, his hands fumbling with his bow tie. They were attending the Christmas party at the Jeffersonian that night, an event which required formal attire that Booth had complained bitterly about all night. When he finally fixed his bow tie, he grabbed his tux jacket from the chair and shrugged into it, turning back to Brennan who was putting her second earring in. "Ready?" she asked him, and he nodded. "Well, then, let's get going." She started out of the room, and he fell into step beside her, his hand coming to rest on the small of her back. They found Max in the living room playing Monopoly with Parker and Kristen. Noah sat in his bouncer beside his sister, his wide eyes focused on the game.

"We're going," Booth announced, and both kids immediately jumped up to hug them goodbye. Booth chuckled, kneeling to wrap them both in his arms as he pressed a kiss to each of their heads. While they said goodbye to Brennan, he turned back to Max. "We should be back in three, four hours. Call us if you need anything."

"Don't worry about us, we'll be fine," Max assured the agent.

"Okay. Be good for Max," Booth told the kids, leading Brennan out the door.

Angela accosted them almost as soon as they walked into the Jeffersonian's ballroom. She was arm-in-arm with a tall, well-built man in his late thirties who had thick, wavy brown hair and green eyes. "Oh, good, you two are here. Cam's been looking for you," Angela told the partners. "So, Booth, Bren, this is Ian Hamilton; he owns a nightclub not too far from here. Ian, this is my best friend Temperance Brennan and her boyfriend Seeley Booth."

"Nice to meet you," Ian said politely, extending a hand. Both partners shook before Angela began to shoo them away.

"Go find Cam," she instructed. "She nearly bit my head off earlier when I told her I didn't know where you two were." Booth chuckled.

"Okay, Angela, we're going," he assured her.

They found Cam in the far corner of the room with her latest boyfriend. When she saw the two partners, she moved toward them quickly. "There you are! It's about time you showed up," she chastised.

"We told you we'd be here a little late, Cam," Booth reminded her.

Cam ignored him. "See that man over there," she said, pointing. Booth and Brennan both nodded. "He's one of the Jeffersonian's biggest donors. Evidently, he heard recently that the bestselling author Temperance Brennan works here, and he's been dying to meet you. Now, go talk to him."

"But-"

"No buts, Dr. Brennan. This guy gives a lot of money to the museum. If he wants to meet you, then he gets to meet you even if I have to handcuff you and drag you over there." Cam looked at her pointedly, and Brennan sighed, turning toward the man.

"Come on, Bones, it won't be that bad," Booth assured her. "I'll stay right here the whole time." He took her hand and squeezed it, noticing with satisfaction that she did not try to shake him off.

They spent three hours at the party, spending most of their time talking to donors though Brennan did manage to convince Booth to dance for a short time. At Angela's urging, they even kissed under the mistletoe though it was only a short peck. At around 11:00, Booth was engaged in a conversation with Cam's date about the latest hockey games when he noticed that Brennan was conspicuously absent. Excusing himself, he set out to find her.

It did not take long for him to ascertain that she was not in the ballroom, and he made his way quickly outside. He found her standing just outside the door, staring into the expansive gardens of the Jeffersonian. "Thinking hard, Bones?"

"Just. . . wondering."

"About anything in particular?"

"Nothing important. I'm just thinking."

"Care to take a walk, Bones?" She shrugged, and he held out his arm, allowing her to link her arm with his as they started out. They walked in silence for some time before she began to shiver slightly in the chilly air, having forgotten her coat inside. Booth noticed immediately and moved his arm to encircle her shoulders, pulling her close to his side. "You want my coat?" he inquired.

"I'm fine."

"Bones, it's freezing out, and as beautiful as that dress is, I can't imagine that it's all that warm. Now, take the coat." He shrugged it off his shoulders, placing it around her before replacing his arm around her shoulders.

"Have I really changed that much?" she questioned suddenly.

"What?"

"I was just thinking about what our life is like now. I mean, we're in a committed relationship, and we're raising three kids with two more on the way. I never really considered a committed relationship before you, and I didn't really want children. And then in the three short years I've known you, all of that has changed. And if that can happen, who knows what else can. I'm my own person, Booth. I don't want who I am to change."

"That won't happen, Temperance."

"It's already happened."

"No, it hasn't. The basics of who you are, what makes you you, that hasn't changed. You're still Bones, the same woman I fell in love with. You've just opened yourself up more, allowed yourself to come out of the shell you built when you were fifteen. Who you are hasn't changed; in fact, I think the real you is only beginning to show, the Temperance Brennan who realizes that she can be loved."

"I'm a scientist, Booth, an empiricist."

"You are. But you're also a woman, a person who has feelings and emotions, and you need to realize the two don't always have to be mutually exclusive."

"So you're saying that who I am hasn't changed?"

"Nope. You're still the same person that you've always been. How you see the world, however, that has changed. And I think you're happier for it." He turned to her, his eyes twinkling, and she leaned forward to press her lips to his. They spent a few moments lost in each other before he pulled away. "I think we've done enough socializing for one night. What do you say we head home?"

"I think that's an excellent idea."

They arrived home to find Max sprawled on the sofa watching _A Christmas Story_. He looked up at the two partners when they entered, muting the movie so that he could speak to them. "The kids went down about two hours ago. Noah was up about half an hour ago, so I fed and changed him. How was the party?"

"The same as every other one," Brennan answered. "Did the kids give you any trouble?" Max shook his head.

"They were fine. Kristen kicked my ass in Monopoly though. You'll have to watch her; she's a shark."

A smile spread slowly over Booth's face. "Come on, Max, I expected you of all people to be able to take her," Booth remarked. "Or are you getting old?"

"She's just good."

"Well, goodnight, Max. We'll see you in the morning."

"Goodnight." Max lay back down on the couch as the two made their way into the room. As soon as the door shut behind them, Brennan turned around.

"Booth, would you mind unzipping the dress for me?" she questioned.

"Sure." He hastily pulled the zipper down, resisting the urge to press a kiss to the milky skin revealed as the two halves of the dress split apart. His hands quickly moved from her body to his own bowtie which he hastily removed before tossing it into the chair. He hung his jacket in the closet and toed off his shoes as his fingers began to work on the buttons of his shirt.

"Hey Booth?" Brennan's voice was low and sultry, and Booth turned to her automatically, swallowing hard when he realized she had completely removed her dress and now stood before him in only her underwear. "Let me help you with those," she offered, keeping her voice deliberately husky, knowing that particular tone drove him mad. He could do nothing but stand and watch as she moved closer to him, her hips swinging tantalizingly with each step. His hands dropped to his side, and hers picked up where they left off, slowly removing each button from its hole. When she had completely unbuttoned the garment, she pushed the two sides apart and ran her hand down his muscular chest, eliciting a groan from him.

"Bones, your dad," he ground out through clenched teeth.

"He's in the other room. We'll lock the door." She left for a moment, and he heard the click of metal on metal as she turned the lock on the door. When she returned to him, she placed her hands on his shoulders, carefully pushing his shirt off his body.

"Bones, he's your dad. This isn't," she leaned forward and placed her lips around one of his nipples, "right," he breathed, already lost in the sensation.

"You really are a prude when it comes to sex, aren't you, Booth?" she questioned.

"I'm not a prude, Bones," he argued.

Leaning forward so that her lips were hovering just above his, she whispered, "Prove it."

In the living room, Max sat, half-concentrating on the movie playing on the screen in front of him and half-listening on the muffled noises in the room behind him. He may have been old, but he was certainly not hard of hearing. It did not take a genius to figure out what was going on, and he smiled to himself. His baby girl had found someone to love her, someone to care for her and protect her even if she did not believe she needed either care or protection. Max had truly meant what he had told Booth earlier that day. He could not have chosen anyone better for his baby girl. Reaching behind him, he picked up the remote and turned off the television, standing to pull out the bed. As he settled onto it, he closed his eyes, trying to ignore the sounds from the adjoining room, giving the two partners privacy. As a father, he supposed he should be upset at his daughter's actions, but she was a grown woman, and he certainly did not delude himself into thinking she was still a virgin. As long as she was happy, he was happy, and he knew Booth made her happy.

Booth was up first the following morning, and he untangled himself from Brennan's limbs before pulling on boxers and a t-shirt and making his way to the kitchen. He busied himself making coffee, turning when he heard the unmistakable sounds of footsteps behind him. He saw Max standing in the doorway of the kitchen, his eyes still bleary from sleep. "Sorry. I was trying not to wake you," Booth apologized.

"No problem. You have extra?" Max nodded to the coffeepot.

"Sure. It'll be a few minutes." They were quiet for a few seconds as Booth turned on the pot. When he turned, he realized that Max was still watching him carefully.

"You know, you two aren't as quiet as you think," Max commented, smiling as a red flush broke out across Booth's neck, creeping up to his face.

"I don't know what you mean," he stammered.

"Booth, I wasn't born yesterday. I know what it takes to make a baby."

"And you're. . . okay with that?" Booth could not believe he was having this conversation, could not believe that he was talking to his girlfriend's (no, not girlfriend, that was too juvenile, a voice in his head corrected) father about sex.

"Temperance is a grown woman."

"Do I smell coffee?" a voice questioned from behind them as Brennan shuffled past her father into the kitchen.

"It'll be ready in a few minutes."

"What were you two talking about anyway?"

"Nothing," Booth answered quickly, feeling the flush creep higher on his cheeks.

"We were just discussing last night," Max added. Booth found himself wishing that the floor beneath him would collapse and end the conversation.

Booth looked between the two men, noting her father's small grin and Booth's flushed cheeks, and it did not take her long to determine the topic of their conversation. "Oh. Well, Booth has always been a bit of a prude when it comes to discussing sex," Brennan remarked. Booth wondered if it was possible to spontaneously combust from embarrassment.

Max's smile grew. "Oh, really?"

"I am not a prude, Bones."

"Every time I try to discuss sex, you change the topic."

"Because you choose highly inappropriate times and places to discuss it."

"You know, Kristen is almost at the age where we're going to have to tell her about the birds and the butterflies, Booth."

"Birds and the bees, Bones, and I know."

"If you're uncomfortable with it, I can always tell her."

"No way, Bones."

"Why not? I'm perfectly capable of discussing it rationally."

"Yeah, that's the problem, Bones. I know you, and you'll probably be too. . . clinical about the whole thing."

"She deserves to know the truth."

"The truth, sure, but she doesn't need the details."

"I know that. I do have tact, Booth."

"Look, Bones, now is not the right time for this discussion. We'll talk about this when it gets closer to time for that conversation."

"You know, we could always tell her together. I mean, we are partners." She leaned closer to him, and he grinned, forgetting that Max still stood in the doorway, watching the two with a wide grin.

"Partners," he repeated, closing the distance between their lips. She moved her hands up to his shoulder blades, bringing him closer as they kissed. They kissed lazily for a few minutes, both content with the simple intimacy of that act for the moment. One of the things that Brennan had learned early on in her relationship with Booth was that unlike her previous relationships, it was not centered around sex. Sure, they had an active sex life, more active than hers had been with anyone previously, but sex was not the only form of intimacy that she enjoyed with Booth. For the first time in her life, she appreciated the other aspects of their relationship from the gentle touches on her back to the soft kisses that they often bestowed on one another to the feel of his arms wrapped around her while she drifted off at night to the way he could make her open up and laugh. Though the sex was amazing, there were other moments that she found equally amazing, little things that he did which would literally take her breath away.

They lost themselves in one another, only breaking apart when Parker's small voice remarked, "Don't you guys _ever_ stop doing that?"

"Reluctantly," Booth answered, pressing another short kiss to Brennan's lips before stepping away from her. He noticed that the coffee had finished and Max had disappeared. His son rolled his eyes.

"Can I work out with you this morning, Dad?" Parker questioned.

"Sure, Bub. Is your sister up?"

"Yeah. She's changing so she can workout, too."

"Okay. Give me five minutes, Bub."

It started snowing as they were finishing their run, and Booth and the kids slowed their pace to enjoy the flakes which fell from the sky. "Think it'll stick, Dad?" Parker questioned eagerly.

"It might," Booth replied. "Who knows? We could have a white Christmas."

"That would be _awesome_," Parker declared. Beside him, Kristen was twirling in the snow, her head hung back. She had removed her hat, so her sleek brown hair billowed in the wind as she spun, laughing delightedly. Brennan watched her, marveling at the change in the small girl since she had come to live with the two partners. She was so concentrated on Kristen that she did not notice Booth sneaking up behind her until he wrapped his arms around her, his hands moving under her shirt. She shrieked as the fabric of his gloves, cold and wet from the falling snowflakes, came into contact with her skin. He laughed loudly as she turned in his arms to deliver a slap to his shoulder. Still laughing, he pressed his lips to hers before holding her close, watching the kids cavort in the snow.

By the time they returned to the apartment, they were all wet and shivering, but none of them minded. Parker took the shower first, and Booth started a fire, allowing Kristen to curl up with Brennan and him as they all attempted to warm up. Once they were all clean and warm, Booth put on Christmas music, and his deep voice echoed around the apartment as he belted out the familiar songs, sometimes joined by Parker's own smaller voice. Even Max joined in on a couple songs, and he forced Brennan up from her perch by her computer where she was attempting to work on her book, insisting that she dance with him. She laughed at him, refusing at first, but Max was stubborn, and she eventually gave in, following his lead around the living room. At Kristen's urging, Booth joined them, one hand holding Kristen's and the other holding Parker's as they, too, spun around the living room, all laughing loudly. It was one of those perfect moments, one of the moments that Booth would hold in his memory for years to come. There was nothing momentous or life-changing about it, but it was special because of its simplicity, because it was a time when they could forget about murderers and kidnapping and death and simply enjoy the love and comfort of a family.

They had a lunch of soup and grilled cheese sandwiches before Booth chased Brennan out of the kitchen, claiming that he was going to cook Christmas Eve dinner with the kids. Knowing it was useless to argue with him, Brennan joined her father in the living room, cuddling Noah to her chest as the baby sucked contentedly at his bottle. Christmas music still played over the stereo, and Brennan could hear Booth and the kids singing along in the kitchen. Kristen seemed to know some of the words, and from time to time, Brennan heard her voice join those of the boys.

If anyone had told her a year ago that she would be sitting here now, pregnant, listening to Christmas music with her father beside her and a baby in her arms while Booth made Christmas Eve dinner in the kitchen with two kids they were raising, she would have suggested that person have his or her head examined. By nature, Temperance Brennan was not a woman who settled. She did not let people get close, did not let herself love because that only invited in heartbreak. And yet here she was, in love with her partner and raising three kids with his help. Sometimes, things did not go exactly as planned. But she was finding more and more often that the surprises in life could provide the greatest enjoyment.

After a delicious dinner, Booth took Kristen and Parker to Christmas Eve mass, and Brennan drug out some of the presents which they had not yet had a chance to wrap. Max watched her carefully measure out the correct amount of paper, slicing it cleanly with the scissors. "I remember when you were little, probably six or seven, you walked in on your mother and I wrapping presents on Christmas Eve," he remarked. "We thought you had gone to sleep."

"But I had stayed up so I could see Santa," Brennan said, remembering. "I heard noises in the living room and thought it was him. That was the year I realized that Santa Claus wasn't real."

"You took it better than your brother did. But then, we expected as much."

"Rationally speaking, it would be impossible for him to exist."

"I know, Sweetheart. But Santa Claus is not supposed to be rational. He's supposed to be magical." Brennan glanced over at him, her eyebrows raised in disbelief. He simply smiled over the rim of his mug of hot cider, taking a sip. She turned back to the package, and he watched as she carefully addressed it. "To: Kristen, From: Santa." And in that moment, Max knew that despite her rationality, deep inside her, there were some aspects of magic in which she still believed.

With Max's help, Brennan managed to finish about three-quarters of the packages, tucking them all away in various hiding places around the apartment. The kids were asleep within thirty minutes after they arrived home, and Booth collapsed in the armchair, his tie loose around his neck and his jacket already removed, hanging on the side of the chair. He leaned his head back, shutting his eyes briefly before focusing on Brennan. "I see you got started on wrapping."

"I thought it would be better if we didn't have to worry about doing all of it after you got back."

"Thanks, Bones."

"We should probably finish it up soon so we can go to bed."

"Yeah." He grunted and pushed himself to his feet. "Goodnight, Max."

"Goodnight, you two."


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 9

Booth and Brennan were awoken by the pattering of small feet and the creaking of their bedroom door as it swung open. They heard furious whispering, but neither was willing to wake fully and acknowledge the presence of the children. Without warning, two small bodies hit the bed as the two shouted, "Wake up, it's Christmas!"

Booth groaned, rolling over and cracking his eyes open. The sun had only just begun to rise, and small slats of light entered the room through the blinds. "Is it really?" Booth questioned. "Hmm, I was under the impression that Christmas wasn't coming this year." The kids giggled.

"No, Dad, it's here. Come on, there are presents," Parker announced.

"Presents? Well, that changes things." Sitting up, he swung his legs down over the edge of the bed, glancing back at Brennan who had buried her face deeper into her pillow after the initial onslaught. "Come on, Bones, presents," he wheedled. She mumbled something incomprehensible. "Coffee?" he tried.

"There better be a lot of it," she groaned, finally rolling onto her back and rubbing sleep out of her eyes. Booth grinned at her.

"Promise, Bones," he agreed.

Parker and Kristen were both bouncing with impatience as Booth moved to the kitchen to start the coffee. Once he, Brennan, and Max all had a mug, the three adults settled on the couch with Noah in Booth's arms, and Booth told the kids they could open their stockings. They did so eagerly, ripping off the paper around the small toys and candy as the adults watched wearing smiles. When they finished with their own stockings, they shared the responsibility of unwrapping Noah's, and Booth and Brennan quickly discovered that the baby was more interested in the wrapping paper than the actual gifts. Booth laughed as Noah reached for the paper, attempting to stuff it in his mouth. Booth's hands stopped the infant before the paper reached its destination, and he removed it gently from Noah's fist.

After Booth and Brennan also opened their stockings, the family ate breakfast before moving on to the gifts. A flurry of activity ensued, and by the end of it, the living room floor was covered in discarded gift wrap, and Parker and Kristen's voices were running over one another as they each exclaimed over their gifts. Booth and Brennan sat back on the couch, Booth's arm around her shoulders as they watched the kids playing with their toys. They had opened their presents after the kids, and a smaller stack of gifts sat to Brennan's left. "I have one more thing for you," Booth whispered into her ear. "Well, actually, it's kinda for all of us."

"You've given me enough, Booth," she assured him.

"Like I said, it's for all of us." Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a keychain and dangled it in front of her face. A single gold key hung from it.

Brennan cocked her head to the side. "Finished?" she wondered. He smiled and nodded, and she leaned forward impulsively, pressing her lips to his.

"We can go see it later," he told her as they pulled apart.

She smiled slightly and nodded. "I'd like that."

Around mid-afternoon, Kristen was juggling her new soccer ball around the living room, unable to play outside due to the snow and ice which covered the ground. "Keep it closer to your foot," Booth suggested. "You don't want to have to reach with your leg so much." She turned and smiled at him, and he gave her a thumbs-up. "Looks good otherwise though," he informed her. "Hey, have you seen Parker?" he questioned, checking around the room.

"In our room," Kristen answered, concentrating on her footwork.

"Thanks," he said, heading toward the bedroom. The door was almost completely closed, and he knocked, pushing the door open at the same time. "Parker?" he asked. Entering the room, he saw his son curled up in the center of his bed, sobbing softly. "Bub, what's wrong?" Booth questioned, moving to the side of the bed. He knelt down so that he could smooth the blond curls away from his son's tearstained face. Parker did not answer, but the well-worn picture he clutched in his small hands told Booth all he needed to know. Smiling up at him from the faded photograph was the face of a woman he had once loved.

"I miss her, Daddy," Parker sniffed. "A whole lot."

"I know, Bub, and I miss her, too."

"But you have Dr. Bones now." His sobs grew louder, and Booth pulled him into his arms, letting him cry into his chest.

"I'm not the only one who has Dr. Bones, Bub," Booth told him. "She loves you, too. And I love you, and Kristen loves you, and Noah loves you, and I think even Max is starting to love you, too. And I know no one is ever going to replace your mom, and no one will ever want to, but we're all here for you. We all care about you. You don't have to grieve alone."

"Why'd she have to go, Daddy? Why'd she leave me?"

"Sometimes, God decides it's someone's time to go, Bub."

"But why did he decide it was her time? I need her! I hate God!"

"You don't hate God, Bub. You're just upset and angry." Booth's hands moved soothingly over his son's back. "Hey, how about we go visit your Mom? You can talk to her, tell her what a nice Christmas you're having. Would you like that?" Parker's head bobbed up and down against his father's shoulder, the tears still flowing. "Okay, Bub, we'll do that," Booth promised, pulling Parker closer.

When he told Brennan where they were going, she immediately told him that she was going with them, and Booth offered her a small smile of thanks. Though she claimed to be out of touch with human emotions, she did a remarkable job of knowing the right thing to do in certain situations. Kristen refused to be left behind, also insisting that they bring Noah and Max. "We're family," she said firmly. "We stick together." Booth shook his head in amazement at the small girl before nodding in agreement, and they all left the apartment together.

Once at the cemetery, Brennan hung back with Noah, Kristen, and Max, allowing Parker and Booth their privacy with their memories of Rebecca. She saw Parker place a bouquet of flowers that he and his father had picked out on top of the tombstone before running his hand over the cold stone. He turned to Booth and said something, his words lost in the bitter wind. Booth knelt down in front of the boy so that they were face to face and wrapped his hands around Parker's arms before responding. Parker considered for a moment and then turned back to the gravestone, speaking softly. Booth stood silently beside him, his hand on Parker's back, assuring him that no matter what, he was safe and loved. Eventually, Parker finished speaking and turned back to his father who knelt again, wrapping his arms around his son. Raising his eyes to the heavens, Booth mouthed something, but Brennan could not tell whether it was a message for Rebecca or a prayer to God, and she realized that she did not need to know. Whatever it was, it seemed to comfort Booth, and he returned to the small group with Parker's hand clasped in his, a look of acceptance on both their faces. Brennan reached out and took his hand, silently supporting him, and Kristen placed her hand over his and Parker's. Booth's eyes slowly took in the group surrounding him from his grieving son to the strong girl who had grown up on the street to the brilliant anthropologist to the hardened criminal who currently held a small infant in his arms. They were certainly an eclectic bunch, but Kristen was right—they were family.

One week later, Booth gratefully set the cardboard box he was carrying on the floor of the family room in their new house. "Last one," he announced happily.

"You realize now you have to unpack everything," Max remarked, emerging from the kitchen. Booth gave him a look of exasperation. "Hey, I just speak the truth. Besides, you should be thanking me. Who do you think packed up most of these boxes?" Booth had to admit, Max had helped tremendously with the move. He had spent the past week at Booth and Brennan's apartment packing up most of their stuff and watching the kids who were still on winter break from school. Booth had wondered if the ex-con was planning on moving in with them, but when he voiced the question, Max had simply laughed at him and assured him that he had found his own apartment which he would move into as soon as Booth and Brennan had moved.

"Booth, those are artifacts, they should go in the study," Brennan announced, breezing into the room and pointing to the box that Booth had recently carried in.

"I can move it later, Bones. For now, we should celebrate the fact that that was the last box, so we are now officially moved in."

"Why should we celebrate? I believe that to be truly moved in, we would first have to actually unpack all the boxes."

Booth groaned. "Fine. You people just take the fun out of everything." Lifting the box, he turned to Brennan. "Study, you say?"

"You first."

"Rangers lead the way," Booth muttered.

"Oorah," Brennan responded.

"Marines, Bones," Booth corrected. "Rangers, we stick with a good old Hooah"

"I don't hear a difference."

"Of course you don't. Trust me, there is one." They continued bickering as they made their way to the study, and Max watched them go, shaking his head.

Later that night, Booth and Brennan stood on the back porch, looking out into the newly-mown backyard. They had put the kids to bed earlier, and Booth held the baby monitor in one hand. "Come on, Bones, there's something I want to show you," Booth said, tugging her hand. He led her toward the back of their property where a large oak tree grew, casting odd shadows in the snow around it. "Ta-da," Booth announced, gesturing toward the tree as if he were Vanna White. He had built a wooden swing, attaching it to one of the thick branches of the tree with thick ropes and chain. It hung about two feet off the ground, swinging slowly back and forth in the winter breeze. Brennan had to admit, it was well-built and appeared structurally sound though she still harbored a few doubts about the strength of the branch.

"I'm sure the kids will love it," she told him.

"It's not just for the kids." He stepped in front of it, dropping the baby monitor to the ground and grabbing onto both the ropes. Instead of sitting, however, he pulled his feet onto the wood so that he was standing on the swing, still moving slowly back and forth. "The summer I was eight, my grandfather helped me build a swing like this in our backyard," Booth told Brennan. "My brother and I loved that swing; we were always arguing about who would get to use it. It's where I used to go to sit and think, where I could be away from everything. And it was also the first thing I built pretty much by myself. I mean, my grandfather helped a little bit with the design and corrected my work, but I was the one who actually cut and sanded the board for the base, I tied the knots in the rope, I climbed the tree to secure the chains on the branch. It felt like I had done something, you know, accomplished something. It was a nice feeling."

"You've accomplished a lot, Booth," Brennan assured him.

"I know I have now, but at eight, that swing was my biggest achievement. My grandfather said it was a fine piece of craftsmanship, and I believed him, took pride in my work." He had become pensive, still standing on the swing, his arms wrapped loosely around the ropes on either side of him. The swing still moved slightly, now due more to the small shifting of his weight, but he appeared in no danger of falling despite his relatively light grip on the rope. "A little over a year after I built it, my brother and I got into a pretty big fight about who got to use the swing. Unfortunately, my dad was home; if we had known that, we wouldn't have fought. We never fought when he was home. Anyway, he got angry and grabbed a saw and cut the ropes of the swing before burning it. I didn't stop him, couldn't really. I never rebuilt the swing either because I was afraid of what might happen if I did."

He grew silent, and Brennan placed a comforting hand on his leg. After a few seconds, he shook his head, clearing his mind of the memories. "But I did have it for a year, and in that year, I learned a few tricks. If you'll back up a little, I can show you." Slightly apprehensive, Brennan did as he asked, and he tightened his grip on the ropes before crouching down, pushing up quickly. The swing began to move a little higher. He repeated the motion, and the swing moved even higher. "You see, if you crouch down at the top of your swing," he began, demonstrating, "and push up at the bottom of the swing," again, he demonstrated, "the swing will start to go higher." By this time, he was swinging to a height of about four feet off the ground.

"It makes sense. It's simple physics. The weight of your body-"

"I know, Bones. But it's not just physics; it's also fun. And a great leg workout." She rolled her eyes and chuckled at him as he shot her a charm smile, still moving up and down, causing the swing to move higher. Within a few more pumps, he was swinging higher than her head and spinning as the rope twisted. He stopped pumping, laughing delightedly as the swing moved in dizzying circles six feet off the ground.

"You're going to fall and fracture something," Brennan told him.

"I'm fine, Bones. You should try it."

She looked at him doubtfully. "I don't know about that." He simply laughed.

About fifty feet away from the partners, Sully sat in his car with the window rolled down despite the chilly air, listening to Booth and Brennan's laughter mingling together. He could see them fairly clearly from his vantage point, and he watched as Booth allowed the swing to slow, letting it swing lower and lower. He had gone to apologize earlier that day but had seen the moving truck and been intrigued. He remembered Brennan mentioning something about a house, but he had been curious. And while curiosity may have killed the cat, he had found that the call to satisfy it was often stronger than any fear he might have of repercussions.

And so he had watched all day as they had carried boxes and furniture into the house aided by three movers and an older gentleman he had never met before. The kids and dog ran around their feet as they moved, and the baby cried from time to time. All in all, they made the perfect American family, and Sully had to admit, he was jealous. Sure, he did not want the house or the kids or the dog—he had never really been the type to settle down—but he wanted her. He wanted to be the one to make her laugh, to comfort her when she needed it, to convince her to change her mind about love. But he could not do any of those things.

He watched now as Booth stepped off the swing in front of her, leaning forward to kiss her passionately. When they separated, he whispered something, and she laughed again. He sat on the swing, one hand grabbing the rope and the other arm moving to encircle her waist, pulling her onto his lap. She went willingly, shifting so she could kiss him again. Pulling her tighter to his body, he deepened the kiss as he began to pump his legs up and down. The swing began moving again, lower this time, but still enough that Brennan's loose hair billowed behind her as they swung. Breaking from the kiss, she leaned her head back against his shoulder, allowing herself to be cocooned by his warmth in the chilly December air. They climbed higher so that their feet no longer touched the ground on the apex of the swing, but no fear remained in Brennan's eyes. She trusted Booth completely and knew that he would never let her fall. And so she enjoyed the ride, welcomed the thrill of being suspended above the ground on the small piece of wood with Booth's strong arms wrapped around her body. She surrendered herself completely and enjoyed her newfound ability to live in the moment.

With a sigh, Sully turned away from them, starting his car. Yes, Seeley Booth had what he could never have, what he had never had, what no one had ever had. He had Temperance Brennan's heart.

"The thought of losing so much control over personal happiness is unbearable. That's the burden. Like wings, they have weight, we feel that weight on our backs, but they are a burden that lifts us. Burdens which allow us to fly. . ."


End file.
